A star (*) denotes that prisoner's have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—a dagger (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.

LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.

OLD COURT.—Monday, October 25th, 1886.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-994

994. HENRY HERRICK , Stealing a banker's cheque for 439l. 13s., and part of the proceeds of the same cheque; also to stealing another cheque for 25l. and 19l., the property of the same people; also to converting to his own use a banker's cheque for 439l.

997. JAMES MATTHEWS (34) to obtaining books from George Jones, Charles Harrison, and other persons, by false pretences, with intent to defraud.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-998

998. OWEN ROBERT WHALE (37) to obtaining by false pretences from Eugene schachtel 19 yards of cloth, with intent to defraud, and attempting to obtain six yards of cloth from the same person, with a like intent.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Nine Months' Hard Labour.

999. THOMAS RICHARDS (36) to marrying Mary Ann Sadler, his wife being then alive— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Two Months' without Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Monday, October 25th, 1866.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18861025-1000

1000. GEORGE WILLIAMS , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it.

MESSRS. WILKINSONandCOOKEProsecuted.

EDWARD DREW (Policeman C 317). On October 9th, about 4.30 p.m., I saw the prisoner in Piccadilly, and as he answered the description of a man I wanted, I walked towards him, and he made off and turned up Air Street, where I caught him, and he threw away a packet of coin, which he took from his waistcoat-pocket—I asked him what he threw them away for, he said "Nothing"—the paper blew away, and I picked up the coins and took the prisoner to the Vine Street Station, where I said "Have you got any more bad money about you?"—he said nothing, but produced this packet from his waistcoat-pocket, containing 10 bad shillings wrapped separately between layers of tissue paper—I said "Tell me where you live"—he said "I have got no home"—I noticed no one with him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Two other men were brought to Vine Street by two other officers, but they had nothing to do with this case.

WILLIAM JOHNSON . I am porter to Mr. Fayter, a florist, of 104, Regent Street—on 27th August, between 3 and 4 o'clock, the prisoner came in and asked for some roses—I saw him talking to Mrs. Fayter, who showed me a bad half-sovereign—I told the prisoner it was bad; he said "I will go and tell him, "and left the shop—I followed him to Cook Street and lost sight of him, but saw him about five minutes afterwards with William Harvey, who I afterwards saw in custody—I noticed that the prisoner was rather bandy-legged.

MALVINA FAYTER (Interpreted). I am manageress to Francois and Co., florists, of 104, Regent Street—on 27th August a man came and tendered this bad half-sovereign for some roses—I told him it was bad, and showed it to Johnson—I noticed when the man went out that his legs were a little bent—I sent Johnson after him—I cannot identify the prisoner by his face—this is the coin.

JAMES WASCOTT (Policeman C 380). On 27th August, about 4 p.m., I was in Regent Street, and Madame Fayter came up to me and showed me a coin; Johnson also came up, and I went with him to No. 104—I took William Harvey there with me, who was pointed out to me—he was searched, and these four bad half-crowns (produced) were found on him—I was here last Session, when he pleaded guilty.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to the Mint—this half-sovereign is bad; it is made of pewter and gilt—these four half-crowns are bad, and from different moulds—this is a packet of ten shillings, all bad, and three of them are from the same mould as those thrown away—these two florins are bad—when bad coins are ready for circulation they are rubbed with lampblack, and put in tissue paper, and as they are taken out one by one the black substance is rubbed off.

CHARLES COLLINS (Policeman G 81). On 31st July, about 11 a.m. I was on duty outside the Victoria public-house, Pentonville Road—the manager came out and spoke to me, and in two or three minutes the prisoner came out, and I said "Where is that bad money you have got about you?"—he said nothing—I took seven florins out of his hand, six of which were bad—I said "Where did you get it from?"—he said "In the City, I did not know but what it was good"—one of them broke in two pieces—I searched him, and found a shilling, a sixpence, and 5d.—I charged him at the station, he made no answer.

Cross-examined. He has been waiting his trial ever since 31st July—he applied last Session to have the case postponed—he spoke in broken English.

CHARLES FEATHERSTON . I am barman at the Victoria Hotel—on 31st July, about 10.45 a.m., the prisoner came in with another man and called for two halves of beer, price 2d.—he gave me a bad florin; I tried it in the till, and it bent almost double—I said "This is a bad one"—he said "I did not know it," and put his hand in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out five or six florins—I saw that some of them were bad, and said "This is a bad one, and that is a bad one"—he said "I got them in the City at an eating-house, in change for a sovereign"—we asked him if he could take them back; he said he did not think he could find the house—he gave me a good florin; I gave him the change and he left with the broken florin.

Cross-examined. He put his hand in his waistcoat pocket and held out some money to me in his open hand; he did not ask me to point out any bad coin, but I did so.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are bad and from different moulds.

The prisoner received a good character.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1002

1002. DAVID ASPLAND (20) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a post-letter containing an order for 2l. 12s. 11d.; also to forging and uttering the said order. He received a good character.— Eight Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1003

1003. GEORGE NEWMAN MITCHELL (23) to stealing while employed in the Post-office a post-letter containing a post-office order; also to forging a receipt to the said order. His father promised to get him employment.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude. And

Reference Number: t18861025-1004

1004. HUGH CASTLE (18) to two indictments for forging and uttering orders for the payment of money, with intent to defraud. He received a good character.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Months' Imprisonment without Hard Labour.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, October 26th, 1886.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-1005

1005. WILLIAM FRANKS (29) and EDWARD ROBERT ELLIS (28) PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously uttering seven forged orders for the delivery of timber. ELLIS received a good character.— Six Months' Hard Labour. FRANKS— Nine Months' Hard Labour.

GEORGE BURTON (Policeman L). On 17th September, about 2.30, I was with Dockrell in Shaftesbury Avenue, Seven Dials, and saw Crepin speaking to a man whom I had been keeping observation on for several months—I then saw both prisoners go through Endell Street into Long Acre—Dockrell and I followed them—they went across Lincoln's Inn Fields, and through Chancery Lane to Fleet Street, where Crepin went into No. 98, the office of the Cyclist newspaper, while Longman stood at the corner of Fleet Street and Farringdon Street, where Crepin joined him—they went across the Meat Market to Chiswell Street and Finsbury Square, where Crepin went to a turning to a place of convenience—as he came back he threw a look over the railings of Finsbury Square—he then went to an eating-house in Chiswell Street, where Longman had gone, for they came out together in about 20 minutes, and we followed them to Broad Street Railway-station, where they stood in conversation about a minute, and Longman crossed over to the door step of 4, Broad Street Buildings, while Crepin went into the railway-station and upstairs to the platform—we followed him; he remained there five minutes, first looking at the bookstall and then at the refreshment-bar—he took something from his right waistcoat pocket, looked at it, and went into the refreshment-bar by one door, and Dockrell went in at the other door and spoke to a barmaid—Crepin called for a glass of stout and drank it—I stopped him at the door and said, "I am a police officer" (I was in plain clothes), "and shall search you; I believe you have counterfeit coin in your possession"—he made no reply—I searched him, and found in his right-hand trousers pocket this counterfeit shilling, four pence, and three half railway tickets—I said, "This is a bad one"—he said, "I did not know that"—I left him in charge of some railway officials, and went down to the doorway where Longman was and said, "I am a police officer, I am going to take you to the station and search you, your friend is there"—he made no reply, and Dockrell came up and took held of his right arm—his right hand was in his trousers pocket—we pulled him out of the doorway—he then drew his hand out of his pocket and appeared to throw something behind him—Dockrell said, "There it is, he has thrown it away"—I picked up this package containing two bad shillings wrapped up separately, and a bad half-crown

in another piece of paper, a portion of the Cyclist newspaper—he said, "Who saw me throw it away?"—I said, "I did"—he said, "This is Brummagem, or did you bring it with you?"—that means telling a falsehood—he said, "Good God, this will kill my wife, I did not ought to mix in such company"—I took him to the station—Crepin said, "I can easily account for mine, I changed a two-shilling piece at a shop, I can take you there"—I bought this copy of the Cyclist at the office (produced).

Cross-examined byMR. SCARLETT. I had Crepin under observation three hours on the 27th—the barman told me that he paid him with a good sixpence, but I had stopped him previously to that—I saw through the window that he had a glass of malt liquor—I looked through the clear glut at the top of the door, which is half wood and half glass—I knew that the other constable was going to speak to the barmaid—I went to the Cyclist office, and ascertained that crepin bought a cyclist there, and when I found this piece of paper which the half-crown was wrapped in I communicated with the Treasury.

Cross-examined byMR. WEBSTER. I did not see the man in Shaftesbury avenue give Crepin anything, and when he went and stood in the doorway at Broad Street Buildings it was raining very hard—he was looking towards the street—I caught hold of him first, and then Doorbell came up and caught hold of his right arm, and pulled him out of the doorway, and he put his right hand behind him, and it came out of his pocket—I did not see any papers in his hand, but I picked up some coins on the pavement.

GEORGE DOCKRELL (Policeman L 55). I was with Burton, and saw Crepin speaking to a mad who we had been keeping observation on for some months—Crepin then went up St. Martin's Lane, where Longman joined him—we followed them to 98, Fleet Street, the office of the Cyclist newspaper—Crepin went in, and Longman stood at the corner till Crepin joined him, and they went towards Finsbury Square—Longman Mood in a doorway while Crepin wont to a urinal at the back of a public-house, and as he came back he threw some papers into the enclosure of Finsbury Square, and came back to Chiswell Street, and went into a coffee shop—the papers were not picked up; they were two or three yards off, but I could see the word "Cyclist" on the fly-leaf, and the model of a bicycle or tricycle—they came out of the coffee shop together, went to Broad Street, and conversed about ft minute, and Longman went and stood in the doorway of 4, Broad Street Buildings—Crepin went up on to the platform, and Burton and I followed him—he looked at the newspaper stall for 10 minutes, and then as he went towards the refreshment bar he took something from his right waist-coat pocket, looked at it, and went into the refreshment bar—I went in at the opposite corner and spoke to the barmaid, and then went to Burton, who was detaining Crepin at the door, and said in his hearing "He has tendered a good sixpence"—I said "We are police officers; we suspect you have counterfeit coin about you; we shall search you"—he said "I did not know that"—Burton searched him, and took some coppers and this shilling (produced) from his right trousers pocket; it was marked at the station—I spoke to a uniform man, and then went to No. 4 and found Longman in Burton's custody—I took hold of his right arm, his right hand being in his trousers pocket; it came out, and he

gave a jerk and threw a parcel on the pavement just behind him—I distinctly saw it leave his hand—Burton said "There it is; he has thrown it away," and picked it up—Longman said "Who saw me throw it away?"—Burton said "I did"—we took him up on the station, where Burton opened the parcel, and it contained two bad shillings and a bad half-crown wrapped in a piece of the Cyclist—I searched Longman at the station, and found a cheque-book, various memoranda, and loose in his right trousers pocket a good florin and 10 1/2 d. in bronze—I took this note of what Longman said: "I can explain the matter; my friend here, "Crepin, "introduced me to a man named Harris about a week ago, and was going to meet him at Broad Street Station, and asked me to go with him; I did so; we met him, and he must have dropped the parcel"—there was no one there while we were watching, and no one was with Longman when he was apprehended.

Cross-examined byMR. SCARLETT. Burton went in at the same door of the refreshment room as Crepin—the door was open, and I believe Burton was keeping it open, and detained him while the barmaid told me that he had paid with a good sixpence.

Cross-examined byMR. WEBSTER. I did not see Longman speak to any other man, but I was absent some time—he gave his correct address, and I have been to his brother's—I said that I took a pocket-book from his breast pocket inside, but it happens to be outside.

Re-examined. This paper (produced) is the result of the inquiries I made—his private address at Lavender Hill is correct; it is a shop, and I found that he owed Mr. Haig, of Grove Street, 25l. for rent and 2l. 10s. for fixtures.

JOSEPH WILLIAM WARD . I am assistant to Mr. Judd, advertising agent, of 98, Fleet Street—on 27th September, about 3 p.m., I served Crepin with a Cyclist—I produce a corresponding copy (Dated September 22nd)—that was the last edition—I also sold Burton the copy he has produced to-day.

Cross-examined byMR. WEBSTER. Longman has done business at our office twice—he brought us two advertisements at different times, which he was paid the commission for—I did not read them; the manager took them from him.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am Inspector of Coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these three shillings and half-crown are counterfeit, and all from different moulds—here is the mark of a shilling on this paper—here are two pieces of paper and four coins—this piece is large enough to wrap three shillings in.

The prisoners received good characters.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1008

1008. GEORGE GILL (14) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it.

MESSRS. WILKINSONandCOOKEProsecuted.

EDWARD DREW (Detective C). On 14th October, about 4 p.m., I saw the prisoner on the kerb near the Horse Shoe public-house rubbing something between his fingers and looking at it—he went away; I stopped him and said "What have you got in your hand?"—he said "Nothing," and shut up his hand—I opened it, it contained this bad florin (produced)—I said "l am a police officer, have you any more about you?"—he said "No"—I said "I shall search you"—he struggled and commenced

crying—I called a constable to hold him while I searched him, and in his breast pocket I found a packet containing these eight bad florins, with a layer of paper between each—he said "A man gave them to me who has gone into a public-house"—he said at the station that his age was 14, and he lived in a lodging-house in Soho, he did not know where it was.

WILLIAM COOPER (Policeman C 223). Drew called me and I held the prisoner, and saw Drew find these coins on him.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are all counterfeit—the separate coin is from the same mould as one or two of those found in his pocket.

The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence said that a man asked him to hold the coins while he went into a public-house.

GUILTY.*—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t18861025-1009

1009. WILLIAM SMITH (28) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSONProsecuted.

MARIA NAVA . My husband keeps a fish shop at 13, Bell Street, Marylebone—on 14th September, about 9 o'clock, the prisoner came in for threepennyworth of fish, and handed me a florin, and I gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and threepence change—I put the florin in the till; there was no other there—later in the evening I and my husband counted over the money in the till, and took out the florin I had received from the prisoner, and found it was bad—I bent it; this is it—my husband took possession of it—on the next night, the 15th, the prisoner came again for threepenny worth of fish, and tendered me a florin—I tested it with the tester on the counter, bent it, and passed it to my husband—the prisoner ran away—I next saw him at Marylebone Police-court, and picked him out from five or six others.

JOSEPH NAVA . I am the husband of the last witness—on 14th September, in the evening, I examined the money in the till with my wife, and found this bad florin—on the following evening I was in the shop with her, and the prisoner came in for threepennyworth of fish—she served him, and he passed a florin to her, and she tried it and passed it to me—I went behind the counter, took the fish from him, and said "Wait a minute and you shall have some warm fish out of the pan"—he looked me in the face, and stopped a little while, and then went to the door—I followed him and when I got outside the door I saw him running—I ran after him, but could not catch him—when I came back to the shop my wife gave me the other florin, and next day I marked them in the constable's presence, and gave them to him—I am an Italian.

JOHN CADY (Police Sergeant T). On the morning of 16th September I received information of the uttering of these coins and a description of the man who uttered them—I went to Mr. Nava's shop, and received these two florins from him.

Cross-examined. I did not say at the police-court that I saw you run into 54, Devonshire Street.

ABRAHAM JEWELL . I keep the Lord Hill public-house, North Wharf Road, Paddington—on 20th September, about 9.20 p.m., the prisoner came in there for half a pint of ale and put down a florin, which my wife passed to me directly—I found it was bad, and said to the prisoner "Where did you get it from?"—he said "I got it in change this morning,"

and then paid for the ale with a penny—I broke the coin in three pieces and gave them to him, and said "I am a good mind to lock you up; there are a good many of you about, passing bad money"—he said "It is all right; I am on the right side"—he then left the shop—a Mr. Gotts had just then come in; he keeps a public-house in Dale Grove, Paddington, and I went with him there and found the prisoner there—Gott's house is from 150 to 200 yards from mine—the prisoner called for half a pint of four ale, and tendered a florin—I was just behind him, and went to the door and called for the police, and gave him in charge.

JAMES GOTTS . I keep a beerhouse at 50, Dale Grove, Paddington—on 20th September, about 9.30 p.m., I was at the last witness's house, and went back in his company to my house, and saw the prisoner there, and heard him call for half a pint of four ale—I served him and saw him put a florin down before my wife; she took it up and said "I don't think it is a good one"—I said "It is not a good one," and went round to where the prisoner stood and told him to get out as fast as he could—he said "I am on the right side"—I said "Have you any more about you?"—he said "No"—I then told him he had been to the Lord Hill and they had broken one up for him there—he said "I don't know where the Lord Hill is"—he then went to the door and I showed him Mr. Jewell standing there looking for a constable; he could not get out, and he was given in Hatchard's custody—this (produced) is the coin, the one with the chip out of it—I had followed him straight from the Lord Hill.

Cross-examined. You did not pay for the ale; you had not drunk it, and I told you to drink it up and get away as soon as you could—you gave the address of a bootmaker's in Chancery Lane, where you said you were employed and where you got it from.

WILLIAM HATCHER (Policeman F 13). On 15th September, about 9.30 p.m., I was called to the Great Western public-house and the prisoner was given in my custody by Mr. Gotts—I asked him if he would charge him; he hesitated; I said "If you charge him I will search him here"—the prisoner said "You can search me, I am on the right side"—I took him to the station, and after the charge was taken he said "I did not know it was bad, I received it as a portion of my wages"—I searched him, and found on him the shilling and two sixpences in silver, and 8 3/4 d. in bronze, all good—Mr. Gotts gave me this bad florin—I found no broken coin on the prisoner.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These three coins are all bad, and from different moulds.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he never went to the fish shop, only to this last shop.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1010

1010. WILLIAM RYAN (24) and WILLIAM MIZON (18) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in their possession, with intent to utter it.

MR. WILKINSONProsecuted.

JOHN ROBINSON (Detective Officer G). On Saturday, 11th September, between 12 and 1 in the day, I was with Detective Mother in Hatton Garden, and saw the two prisoners—we followed them, and saw Ryan go into the Rose public-house, and Mizon stood on the opposite side—I went into another compartment and spoke to the barmaid—she exclaimed something and looked into the compartment where Ryan was, and he at

once hurried out—he had not been served with any drink—I followed him out, and saw Mizon about 30 or 40 yards away in Hatton Garden, near Clerkenwell Road, and he joined Ryan at the corner of Eyre Street Hill—I did not see any recognition—they went round a clump of houses into Back Hill, and from there across Clerkenwell Road into Leather Lane—we followed them into a public-house, and after I had seen Mother seize Ryan by the hand I said to Mizon, "l am a police officer, and I have reasons to suspect you of uttering counterfeit coin, or having in your possession counterfeit coin, and I am going to search you"—he said, "I have got nothing"—he resisted my searching him, and took this brown-paper parcel from his left-hand trousers pocket and threw it on the floor, and several coins came out, and he threw this tin box at the same time—while I was struggling with the prisoner the barman jumped over the counter and picked the coins up—I could not see any separate paper on them; I believe there was a piece of newspaper, but there were a great many people there while I was struggling with him—the barman banded these coins to the landlord, who handed them to me (produced)—I said to Mizon, "I am going to take you in custody for having in your possession seven counterfeit half-crowns"—he said, "You did not see them in my possession"—I took him to the police-station, searched him, and found on him a shilling, a sixpence, and 3d. in silver, and 1d. in bronze, all good—the charge was taken, and he made no reply.

CHARLES MATHER (Detective G). I was with Robinson on 11th September, and followed the prisoners from Haton Garden down to Leather Lane—we went into the White Lion public-house, and I there arrested Ryan—I saw him with his right hand on the counter; I took bold of it and dragged it off and said, "What have you got here?"—he drew his hand off the counter with this half-crown in it—I picked it up and said, "What have you got here?"—he said, "You won't find anything on me; what do you want?"—I said, "I am a police officer, I want this, "holding the half-crown, "and now I want you"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I searched him on the spot, but found nothing on him—he was taken to the station and charged, and made no answer.

HUGH FORBES . I keep the White Lion public-house, Leather Lane—on 11th September, shortly before 2 p.m., the two prisoners came in, and Ryan called for a pot of four ale—the ale was almost put on the counter, when Ryan's hand was seized by a detective—I had seen the detectives come in, but I did not know they were detectives then, and Ryan then put his hand in his pocket, and I saw some brown paper on the floor and some coins spilt out of it—my man picked them up, and handed them to me—I looked at them, but formed no conclusion about them—Robinson asked me for them—I said was he an officer—he said he was, and I handed them to him—I also saw a tin box—the barman served the beer, and the coin was tendered to him.

ANDREW REEVES . I am barman at the White Lion—on 11th September I saw the two prisoners arrested there—I saw the coins on the floor, and picked them up and handed them to Mr. Forbes; I also picked up this piece of brown paper—Ryan ordered the ale, and I was about to serve him, and there was a coin on the counter, and before I could put the ale on the counter the detective took hold of his hand—they

had not been drinking there; I had not seen them before—they both called together for the beer.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These eight half-crowns are all bad, and from three or four different moulds—this one has no connection with the seven picked up, although it is the same date.

Ryan in his defence stated that Mizen was going to pay for the beer with good money, and that he knew nothing about the half-crown. Mizen stated that he knew nothing about the coins, and that he was going to pay for the beer with good money.

GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

FOURTH COURT.—Tuesday, October 24th, 1886.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18861025-1011

1011. GUSTAV KOBZSCHER (19) PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering the shop of Gustav Bargen, and stealing a box, postage-stamps, and 12l., his goods and money, after a conviction of felony in August, 1886.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1012

1012. JOHN TELPHAIR (54) , Stealing a suit of clothes and other goods, the property of the Great Eastern Railway Company.

MR. FULTONProsecuted.

JOSEPH SIBTHORPE . I am a porter at the Liverpool Street Station of the Great Eastern Railway—at 8.20 p.m. on 23rd September I saw the prisoner at the main line departure platform loitering about—I concealed myself behind a second-class carriage, and saw him take a parcel off a barrow—he then walked through the front office—I followed him into Liverpool Street, caught hold of him, and told him I wanted him—he said, "What for?"—I said, "I want you for taking this parcel"—he said, "All right"—I handed him over to Constable Roberts—we took him to Bishopsgate and gave him in charge for stealing the parcel, which was addressed to Epping.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not stop you when you took it because I wanted to see what you were going to do with it—I let you take it about 30 yards—I had not seen you on the platform before—it was not daylight.

JOHN ADAMS . I am a checker in the employment of the Great Eastern Railway—on 23rd September I called out the name of this parcel and stamped it with the red stamp of the railway, showing it had passed through the parcels office.

WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT . I represent Pullen and Sons at 18, Chenies Street—this parcel was sent from my place to Mr. Haddon, of Epping, and contained a tweed suit.

THOMAS RENTON . I am a packer in the employment of Pullen and Sons—I packed this parcel consisting of 11 articles, cashmere frock and so on.

ARTHUR ANDERSON WEST . I reside at Theydon Bois—I sent this tweed suit to Messrs. Pullen to be dyed—I valued it at about 3l.

JOSEPH DAVY (City Policeman 905). I took the prisoner—he said his name was John Telphair, of 20, Featherstone Street, City Road—he does not live there—I found this pencil on him; he said the gentleman gave him that to write on the parcel where he was to take it to, Fenchurch

Street—I also found on him this pawnbroker's duplicate in the name of Morrison—there were scratches on the parcel.

Cross-examined. You said a gentleman gave you the parcel to take to Fenchurch Street Station, but you could not point him out.

The prisoner in a written defence stated that he received the parcel from a stranger, who gave him a few pence to carry it to the Fenchurch Street Railway-station.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1013

1013. HENRY GEORGE (23) , Robbery with violence on Flora Kelly, and stealing from her person, a bank-book, a piece of paper, and 7s. 6d., the goods and money of James Kelly.

MR. DYSON WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

FLORA KELLY . I am the wife of James Kelly, of 140, Connaught Street, Stepney—on 25th July, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I was about to open my street door; I had the key in the door, and the prisoner ran across the street, and said "Can't you open your door?"—I said "Go about your business"—he caught me by my throat, and held me against the wall, while he tried to rifle my pockets—he threw me in the road, and knelt on me, and tore away my pocket from under my apron—I said "I know you"—he had taken the shade off his eye, but I had seen him before—he gave me a kick and ran away with my pocket, which contained a bank-book, a piece of paper, and 7s. 6d.—I told a constable, and he went with me to the station—I had known the prisoner by sight for about 18 months perfectly well, and can speak certainly to his identity—the piece of paper relating to a feather was picked up by Matty and given to me—he also found my apron strings.

GEORGE MATTY (Policeman H 236). At 7.30 on 25th July the prosecutrix met me, and made a statement—I went with her, and outside her house I found two pieces of tape, which she said had been torn from her apron—at 3 o'clock next morning I picked up a bill-head relating to a feather, which she identified—her jacket was very much torn.

Cross-examined. I saw you loitering about on that night at 1 o'clock outside the Salisbury public-house, about 30 or 40 yards from the prosecutrix's house.

GUILTY . He thenPLEADED UILTY** to a conviction of felony at this Court in December, 1882.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18861025-1014

1014. WILLIAM JOHNSTONE (62) , Stealing a watch from the person of John Rolliston.

MR. DYSON WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

JOHN ROLLISTON . I am a cabinet maker, of Gladstone Terrace, Battersea Park—on 12th September, about 9.20 p.m., I was in Liverpool Street waiting to get into a 'bus with my wife—I was carrying a Gladstone bag in my right hand, and a walking stick in my left—I felt a man knocking, against my side in the crowd—I turned, and looked twice at the prisoner, who was standing beside me, and seemed to hit my side with his elbow—as my wife was about to get on to the 'bus I felt a tug at my chain—I turned and saw his hand going away, from my pocket, and I saw my chain drop from his hand—I got hold of his collar; his hands went under his coat—I said "You have my watch"—he said "I have not"—I said

"You have taken it out of my pocket"—he showed me his hands—I held him till a constable came—I gave him in charge—my watch was taken off the chain swivel—I have not seen it since—I have the chain.

Cross-examined. There was a crowd, but you were the only one standing on this side of me—I never saw the watch in your hand, nor did I see any one else with it—I saw it not many minutes before—you said "What do you catch hold of me for?" and tried to make me let go your collar.

JAMES HENRY ALLISTON . I am a warehouseman, of 82, Westfield Road, Hornsey—between 9 and 10 on 12th September I was outside Broad Street Station, and noticed several people trying to get on a 'bus—some one exclaimed "You have my watch"—I saw the prosecutor catch hold of the prisoner, who wrenched himself away—I was looking over the prosecutor's shoulder, and saw the prisoner put his hands behind him and keep them there for some seconds—I am sure of the prisoners identity.

Cross-examined. I saw nothing in your hands.

EDWARD GARDINER (City Policeman 114). On the night of 12th Sept. I was in Liverpool Street—my attention was directed to a crowd opposite; I crossed the road, and some gentleman said "This man has my watch"—the prosecutor had hold of the prisoner's collar—I looked in the prisoner's hands, but could see no watch there—I asked him if he wished to charge him—he said "Yes"—I took him to the station, where he was charged—he gave me the address 42, Old Street, and said he was a French polisher.

The prisoner in his defence contended that if he had taken the watch he could not have got rid of it so quickly.

GUILTY .

He thenPLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in January, 1886.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18861025-1015

1015. PERCIVAL NASH (22) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Abraham Everett, and stealing 250 cigars and three boxes, his property.

MR. DYSON WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

ABRAHAM EVERETT . I keep the Crown and Sceptre beerhouse, Stepney—on the night of 12th September I left my premises bolted up and secure, and went to bed—a few minutes after 4 o'clock on the 11th I heard a noise in the house and came downstairs in my shirt—I tried the side door, but could not see anybody there—when I came from it the prisoner jumped up from a cupboard and bounced over the bar—I halloed, "You scoundrel, if I had a revolver I would shoot you"—he flung the flap of, my premises out on the pavement—I crawled over the bar and followed him into the street id my shirt—a man from the gasworks followed him, and I stopped as I was cold—I missed two and a half boxes of cigars; I have not seen them since.

WILLIAM HOWARD . I am foreman at Stepney Gas Works—at 4 a.m. on 12th September I was coming from work and heard a noise in this house; I stopped, and saw the prisoner come out at the window—I ran after him as far as the gates of the gas-works; I said to a constable "Stop him," and saw him run into the constable's arms—I did not lose sight of him from the first I saw of him till he was apprehended.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I saw you knock the shutter down and come out of the house, and I saw the constable get hold of you.

WILLIAM RICH (Policeman H 383). At 4 a.m. on 12th September I was on duty and saw a man running down Monteagle Street; I apprehended him—he said he had been knocked about by two men in Harper Street—I asked him what he was running for—he said, "I don't know"—then he said two men had knocked him about at the end of the street—Mr. Everett identified him, and he was taken to the station and charged—I found nothing on him—there is a lamp facing the public-house door about seven feet from the doorway.

The prisoner in his defence said that he was coming by the prosecutor's house and saw two men standing there, who asked him why he was watching; that as he passed again in a few minutes, one of the men struck him; that he ran, and the constable took him.

ELIZA FLOAT . I live at 22, Homer Street—I lived with the prisoner as his wife over eight years, and have had seven children by him, one of whom is now alive—I ceased to live with him on 6th Feb. last—I always got my own living as a dressmaker—I was employed in the Edgware Road—on 28th August I left off work in the middle of the day, about 1 o'clock, and saw the prisoner waiting for me; he spoke to me and asked me to walk with him—I said I couldn't spare the time, I had a dress to finish; he then walked with me to my own home—he wouldn't leave me then, so I promised to meet him at 7 o'clock—I went out to my sister's at 7 o'clock and left him outside waiting for an hour and a half, and when I came out he commenced abusing me and calling me names, and said he supposed I went there to meet somebody; I assured him I had not—a small crowd then collected looking at us, and my sister took us into a public-house and we all had a glass of beer there, for which my sister paid—we then came out from there and parted, I and the prisoner going up the Edgware Road; he then began abusing me again for keeping him waiting—I did nothing, only walked along by the side of him—I then gave him the slip in the crowd and went up as far as Bell Street, and when I thought he was gone I came back again and found he was standing at the corner of Chapel Street—Homer Street is at the bottom of that street—I went straight down Chapel Street to Homer Street, he still abusing me all the way, and when within about

six doors of my own home he seemed to throw himself up against me and something scratched my face under my ear, and I turned round and, caught hold of his hand and saw he had a knife in it—it was only a small scratch; it cut my thumb, and I let go, and he then threw his arm round my neck and held my head back and drew the knife across, cutting through a velvet bow, and cut my throat, and when he had got the knife in he rocked it to and fro—some one then came and pulled him off, and in pushing him off the knife came out of my throat, and I don't remember much more than that—I was bleeding fearfully, and was taken to Mr. Morgan, a surgeon in the neighbourhood, but I don't remember being there—I afterwards found myself in St. Mary's Hospital, and I was attended to there until I went before the Magistrate on 13th September—I had my little boy with me at this time, he is six years old—that is the only child I have alive—the prisoner had had a glass to drink, but he was not drunk.

CATHERINE MAINEY . I live at 29, Stephen Street, Lisson Grove, and am a single woman—on the night of 28th August I saw the prisoner and the last witness in Homer Street-having some words; I took no notice of that, and then I heard the screams of the woman and the little boy, and looked across the road and saw the prisoner standing quite near to the woman, who was screaming for help and I saw him strike her with his hand—there was nothing in his hand then, but when they were on the ground I saw a knife in his hand.

WILLIAM TURNER (Policeman D 187). On the night of the 28th I heard the screams and went to the spot at once, and found the woman on her hands and knees bleeding from the throat, and the prisoner was being held there by some bystanders—he had a knife in his hand, which was dripping with blood—I secured him and took the knife from him, and took the woman to Mr. Morgan's, the nearest surgery—the prisoner said, "She has driven me to do it"—he was sober.

JAMES MORGAN . I am a surgeon at 15, John Street—on Saturday night the prosecutrix was brought to me—she was bleeding from the throat and in a state of collapse—I attended to her at once, and stopped the haemorrhage, and kept her there three-quarters of an hour, and when I thought she could be safely removed I sent her to St. Mary's Hospital.

----LLOYD. I am house surgeon at St. Mary's Hospital—about 11 p.m. the witness was admitted to the hospital, and I found her suffering from an incised wound four inches long, and between half an inch and an inch deep, on the right side, about the center of the neck—it had cut through one of the large veins, and was a very dangerous wound—if it had been a little deeper, and unless a surgeon had been on the spot to attend to her, death would have been certain—she had a black eye also—she had lost one eye from previous violence—she remained in the hospital until 13th September, when she was able to give evidence.

Prisoner's Defence. All I can say is, I have had some very bad accidents and my skull fractured. When this happened I had been cutting a large apple to give the boy half; the knife split it and cut my thumb open; with that my brain seemed to turn, and I did not know what happened till I found myself on the ground and saw what had been done.

1019. MICHAEL MURPHY (19) and JOHN BUCKLAND (21) were indicted for the manslaughter of Simon Peter Preston.

MESSRS. POLANDandCHARLES MATHEWSProsecuted.

No evidence was offered against Buckland, and there being no witness as to the actual injury, both prisoners were found

NOT GUILTY .

There was an indictment for a common assault, to which Murphy

PLEADED GUILTY . He was discharged on his own recognisance. No evidence was offered against Buckland.

Reference Number: t18861025-1020

1020. JAMES HEPWORTH was indicted for, and charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with, the manslaughter of Frederick Liversege.

MESSRS. POLANDandCHARLES MATHEWSProsecuted.

The injury which caused the death arose from a fall in a fight, in which the deceased was the aggressor. The Jury found the prisoner

GUILTY,but strongly recommended him to mercy,and he entered into his own recognisance to appear for judgment when called upon.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, October 27th, 1886.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-1021

1021. EDWARD LEIBMANN was indicted for a libel on Edward Milzer.

The prisoner having expressed his regret, MR. KISH, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1022

1022. JAMES SMITHSON (49) , Stealing one key, and within six months another key, the property of the Tavistook Hotel Company, Limited.

MR. FULTONProsecuted; MR. BESLEYDefended.

THOMAS TAYLOR . I am managing clerk of the Tavistock Hotel, Covent Garden—the prisoner arrived there on Friday, 1st October—I was not present when he arrived, but I was when he left on the Saturday, about 7 p.m.—he came downstairs with a bag in his hand and a coat over his arm, and as is customary the hall porter asked him for his key—it is the practice at our hotel, as soon as the visitor is allotted his bedroom, to be supplied with a key of that room—it is also the practice for visitors to write their names in the book—it is the hall porter's duty to ask for the key—when the prisoner was asked for his he said he had not got one—he then asked him if he had left it upstairs in his room—the prisoner said, "You never gave me one"—the porter said, "How did you get into your room? you must have left it upstairs"—the prisoner said, "I presume I must, "and went out to a cab which was waiting for him, and drove off—I then sent Draper, the chamberlain, upstairs to see if the key was there—he came down and made a communication to me, in consequence of which I told him to follow the cab as quick as he could on foot, and shortly afterwards he returned with this key in his hand and made a communication to me—this is the key of room No. 51, which the prisoner occupied—a few days afterwards Sergeant, Wright brought a bundle of keys to me, and I picked out this one (produced) as the property of the hotel—all our locks are supplied by Hobbs and Co., and a different key fits each door—the top and bottom wards of this key have

been filed away, and the number also—I was not able to see to which door it belonged, Messrs. Hobbs's manager did that—we have lost one key within the last three months.

Cross-examined. I conducted the hotel on my own account for 23 years, and before it became a limited company; it has not been rebuilt—the 184 bedrooms are all the same—there is no keyhole inside the doors, only a bolt—if a visitor left his key by accident outside the door, and was going to bed, he would use the bolt—I think the keys were supplied by Hobbs about nine years ago—there is not always a person on each landing, but there is on the main floor—if a person forgets the system of the spring and locks, and leaves the key inside his room, he cannot get in, and would have to call for one of the servants to open the door with a master key, which will open all the doors—we keep one key in reserve for each room in case of loss; they are kept on a large ring; there ought to be 150; I have not counted them lately—a visitor sometimes goes away and forgets to give up his key; that has occurred so often that the chamberlain is directed to ask for it—when the hall porter asked the prisoner for his key he said "I haven't got it"—in olden times if a key was lost we should send for a locksmith, and he would send a bundle of keys and fit one to the door, but now we send to Hobbs's, but we have the master key—I heard from the police that the prisoner was in custody, two or three days after he left—I attended at Guildhall, and found him in the dock—I made no charge against him when Draper brought back the key, nor did I go to the police about it.

He-examined. This is the key of No. 51 that Draper brought back—if a person bolted the door inside no one could get in with the key—after the prisoner had left I looked at all the doors and bolts of the rooms, and found three of them, Nos. 145, 146, and 149, had been tampered with—the screws of the locks had been withdrawn, and the holes made larger, and then the screws replaced with paper—those rooms are not near the prisoner's room; they are quite at the other side of the house—it would take a person two or three minutes to go from 51 to 145—I think I found the locks in that condition on the next day, Sunday.

ByMR. BESLEY. The paper was wrapped round the screws, and the screws were in the holes, which were made larger so as to admit of drawing the screws at any time without noise—I can't remember when I had made an examination before of the doors and bolts to see if they had been tampered with—it has never happened before—the bolts would not hold long after they had been tampered with—the chamberlain would go to open the door and the socket would fall off, and one did fall off before he was taken in custody, and in consequence of that all the other locks were examined—I can't fix any time at which this tampering took place.

LEWIS JONES . I am hall porter at the Tavistock Hotel—I did not see the prisoner arrive on October 1st, but I saw him come in about 12 o'clock at night, and asked him what his number was—he said "All right"—I said "What number are you, Sir?"—he said "No. 51"—I said "You have not got your key," and I walked round and gave him his key, and said "Mr. Bond"—he said "Yes," took the key, and went upstairs—here is an entry in this book of the arrival of B. Bond,

Dublin, on Friday, October 1st, and next day, Saturday, I was there when he was leaving—I heard a cab ordered for No. 51—the chamberlain came down with his luggage, and the prisoner followed—I asked him for his key—he said "I have not got it"—I said "But you had one; you could not get into the room without"—he said "I have not got it"—I said "Have you left it upstairs?"—he said "I presume so," and walked out—Draper came down afterwards, and went out and returned with the key.

THOMAS DRAPER . I am a chamberlain at the Tavistock Hotel—on 2nd October, when the prisoner left, I brought down his luggage to the cab, and after the cab had gone I received directions from Mr. Taylor, and returned to the room, but the key was not there—I ran after the cab to Charing Cross Station, found the prisoner on the platform, and said "Your key, Sir?"—he said "I have not got it"—I said "You must have it, or you could not get into the room; I am chamberlain of that room and responsible for the key"—he put his hand in left trousers pocket and produced it—this is it (produced)—I gave it to Mr. Taylor.

Cross-examined. I knew he was going to Charing Cross—he apologised, and gave me a shilling.

GEORGE HENRY WOODS . I am hall porter at the Tavistock Hotel—it is part of my duty to request every guest arriving there to write his name and address—the prisoner on his arrival wrote in the book "B. Bond, Dublin."

Cross-examined. There are 54 servants and 150 bedrooms on four floors, but it is divided into separate houses; four houses are thrown into one—bedroom No. 146 was occupied on this night by Mr. Arthur Belfield, of Dudley, who I think left next day.

WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Detective sergeant). On 6th October I took the prisoner as he was leaving Long's Hotel, New Bond Street, on another charge—I had kept observation on his movements from the morning of September 30th, when I traced him from an hotel to the Great Eastern Railway, and from there to the Imperial Hotel, Holborn Viaduct—I found his luggage there and had it watched—it left the Imperial Hotel on the evening of September 30, and I found it deposited in the clockroom at Charing Cross Station—I missed it on the 1st and found it at the Tavistock Hotel, Covent Garden, on Friday, and found him that day in the street near the door of 6, Bailey Street, Tottenham Court Road—Outram and Scrivener followed him—on Saturday, October 2nd, we found him in Tottenham Court Road, and in the evening I saw him go to the Tavistock Hotel, and after about an hour and a half he came out with his luggage and we followed him to the cloak room at Charing Cross, where he deposited his luggage again, and on the Monday he was followed to Alfred Place, Bedford Square, and I followed him there on the Tuesday about 3 o'clock—after taking him in custody I went there and searched the premises.

JANE HUME . On 2nd October the prisoner came to lodge at my house, 20, Alfred Place, Bedford Square, with his wife and brother-in-law—he gave the name of Russell—he and his wife occupied a bedroom on the ground floor, and the brother-in-law a bedroom on the second floor.

Cross-examined. I was not told that they were husband and wife, I was told that the upstairs room was for the lady's brother—the charge was 35s. a week—the gentleman paid 1l. deposit—they took the rooms

on Wednesday, September 29, and came on the Saturday at 11 a.m.—they were with me a fortnight, but to the best of my belief Mr. Russell was only there on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday nights—I have never been asked to identify Mr. Russell, but the prisoner is the man.

WILLIAM WRIGHT (Continued). I searched the prisoner at the police-station, and found a watch, a purse, and money, a pair of tweezers, and a small key which has been filed down—the tweezers can be used to unlock doors which are locked inside, by catching hold of the nose of the key—I also found this little key and a latchkey which fits 20, Alfred Place—this combination matchbox and candle (produced) was found in his bedroom, it will give a glimmering light for about seven minutes—I made a search at 20, Alfred Place, and in the ground floor bed and sitting room I found a key which Mr. Taylor identifies, and a number of keys which have been filed down and the ends taken off and the wards altered, also two keys which have been nickel plated—there were fourteen keys altogether, five of which have been filed, also a brace, three centre-bits, and other articles—I afterwards examined the doors at the Tavistock Hotel—this model was made under my direction—this is one of the bolts which has been taken off the Tavistock—this instrument (produced) can be used for moving a latch inside.

Cross-examined. I also found a large number of carpenter's tools in a trunk in the bedroom of the parlours—I found nothing in the second floor bedroom.

ROBERT OUTRAM (Detective Officer). I know the prisoner, and have seen him going in and coming out of 6, Bailey Street, Tottenham Court Road—I saw him at the Tavistock on the Friday, wearing a soft felt hat and jacket, and later on wearing a high hat and a frock coat.

Cross-examined. He was wearing the high hat when he was taken in custody—I saw him go to 6, Bailey Street on Thursday, 30th September, about 8 p.m., and on 1st October I saw him go in about 9.30. and come out in an hour, and go to a public-house—he was smoking—I did not see him go to the Tavistock that day.

GEORGE CALVERT . I am manager to Hobbs and Co., of Cheapside, who made the keys for the Tavistock Hotel—there is a different key for every door, and a different combination for different hotels—this key produced we made for the Tavistock, but it has been altered by filing it, which would give it the chance of passing the wards of some locks—I went there and tried it to the doors of Nos. 97, 101, 145, 146, 149, 150, and 153, and it fitted them.

Cross-examined. The keys are made in duplicate, but we deliver the whole of them, and a master key for the whole building—we make keys for hotels in the country by the thousand, but we have a special design for every hotel—it is not easy for a workman to adjust a key so as to use it for any lock, but it is possible to file a key so as to make it open more locks than the one it was originally intended for—I see no trace of the name of the hotel on this key, only Hobbs's name—Hobbs's keys are not sold by pick-lock people—smiths make large collections of keys—we should not supply them, but we have no control where keys are thrown away or lost.

Re-examined. This key was made by the firm for the Tavistock Hotel, only—if we were required to make 10,000 combinations we could do it—the number is filed off the key.

FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFT . I have been an expert in hand-writing for 35 years—I believe the "Dublin" in this signature "B. Bond, Dublin," and in this, "James McBlane, Dublin" were written by the same person—the "D" is differently formed, but it is a large bold "D, "and the other letters are identical—I think the "B. Bond "is in a feigned hand—the two "B's" are very eccentric.

Cross-examined. I have had vicissitudes in my experience—I do not pretend to be infallible, all I do is to submit reasons to the Jury—the "B" in "Bond" is half printed and half written, and is evidently done for a disguise, which renders it more difficult for me to present my opinion to the Jury that McBlane was written by the same hand, but with regard to "Dublin "every letter is identical—the "b" in Dublin is very much more looped than the "b" in the other signature—there is no shakiness in the "n, "but there is in the "D."

Re-examined. The "b" in Dublin is exactly the same in one case as in the other.

THOMAS TAYLOR (Re-examined). No. 155 against the name of McBlane means that he had room No. 155—room No. 97 is on the floor above that, and it is near No. 153; they are all close together—you go up a half flight of steps.

ByMR. BESLEY. That key was used by Mr. Hewitson on the next night—if you turn the leaf over you will see that No. 97 has no "k" against it, which means "key"—on 16th. June McBlane, of Dublin, is entered as arriving, and on June 17th Mr. Brown left No. 97, and the key was missing that day—97 was was occupied on June 16—McBlane left late on the evening of June 19, and on the night before Mr. Hewitson occupied No. 97—I cannot say he changed his room from No. 97, but it may have happened that he did not like it and removed to another—the change of number is done at the desk, and this is only the arrival book—Mr. Hewitson left No. 97 on June 18th—this book would not show that he and Mr. Thorley were occupying that room at the same time—a gentleman might be put into one room and it might not be altered immediately—the important entry is upstairs in the bureau—that book is not here—Mr. Brown was in room 97 on June 15th, and left on the 17th.

ByMR. FULTON. If the guest gives up a key a "k" is put in the departure column, and if he does not there is a blank—there is no "k" on June 17th, which signifies that no key was given up—the key of No. 97 was missed on the 17th.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am not guilty; the keys I picked up in the street."

Witnesses for the Defence.

WILLIAM EDWARD BALKWILL , M.R.C.S. I am surgeon to the Royal Orthopedic Hospital, and live at Old Cavendish Street—on July 1st I attended the prisoner at 48, Charlotte Street; also on July 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 9th, 12th, 15th, 16th, and 18th—he had a swollen foot, said to be the result of an accident some weeks before, and I have no doubt it was—he could walk without assistance, but he had crutches with my approval—the injury was a violent sprain of the ligaments and sinews of the foot; some of the ligaments were broken through—he could not walk without pain, and was not capable of going about as ordinary men do—I left him because I was going out of town.

Cross-examined byMR. FULTON. I suggested the crutches to him—I am not sure whether he was using them on July 1st—his foot was swollen very much, and it got worse as time went on—he was not able to walk tolerably well on July 1st—I know nothing of his condition on 17th June—I did not see him till July 1st—I have his name down as Corn or Cronin—I cannot make it out; it is not in my writing; it is not Smith son, or Russell, or Bond.

Re-examined. I am quite sure the injury was of long standing.

REBECCA FURCHELL . I live at 9, Fitzroy Street—the prisoner came to lodge with me it may have been at the end of May, and left on September 11th—Dr. Balkwill attended him there—he met with the accident before he came to my house, and he was continuously resident there—he treated himself at first before the doctor came—he was at home and confined to the house almost all the time he was there till within a week or two before he left, and then he walked with a stick—he lived in the name of Croon.

Cross-examined. He occupied the ground floor with his wife—he sometimes went out, but very seldom—he was on crutches—he sometimes went out in a cab, but very rarely, because his foot was so bad—it got very much worse during his stay with me, and on July 1st he sent for Mr. Balkwill—he came to me before June—he was, I think, four months with me—the doctor came a few days after he came—I have only seen the doctor getting out of his carriage; I have not let him in—I am not able to say that the prisoner had not been there three weeks before the doctor came—I say that it was not so much as three weeks, only a few days, but I cannot say definitely—the doctor may have come without my knowing it, and I think he was there a week after.

GUILTY . There was another indictment against the prisoner.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

WILLIAM WALKER . I am chief cashier of the Chancery Lane Branch of the Union Bank of London—on October 7th, about 11.30, the prisoner presented this cheque—I noticed a discrepancy in the signature, as Messrs. Currie's cheques are stamped, and then signed by an individual partner, and asked him who he brought it from—he said "From Mr. Hastings, the payee"—I showed it to the next cashier, and asked him to keep an eye on him, and asked the prisoner to come into the manager's room—he rushed out, and the cashier followed him and brought him back with a constable—he said that a very respectable person outside gave him 2s. and a black bag, with the cheque—it comes from Mr. Bridgwater Williams's private cheque-book.

Cross-examined. My desk is in a corner at the door—there were no other customers at the counter at that moment.

CHARLES BRIDGWATER WILLIAMS . I am one of the firm of Currie, Williams, and Williams, of Lincoln's Inn Fields—this cheque is forged, it is not the signature of any member of the firm, nor is it signed in the form in which we sign cheques—I know no person named Hastings—I

don't know the prisoner—it has been taken out of my private cheque-book (produced).

Cross-examined. The book was issued some time in June, and I kept it in a drawer, not locked, in my own room—it was the last cheque, and the counterfoil was torn out as well—our cashier must have got the cheque-book for me—I did not examine it to see if I got the full number of cheques—the book states from such a number to such a number.

GEORGE CHEESELEY (City Policeman 516.) On 7th October, about 11.30 a.m., I saw the prisoner running, in Chancery Lane towards Fleet Street, and heard a cry of "Stop thief"—I followed him to the basement of 11, Bell Yard, where he secreted himself under the staircase—I took him in custody—he said "A gentleman gave me the bag and cheque and 2s. outside the bank, and said "Here my man, here is 2s. for you to get this cheque cashed, and when I presented it one of the porters came towards me; I became alarmed and ran away, and then saw the gentleman who had given me the cheque running towards Holborn"—there was nothing in the bag.

Cross-examined. 7s. 4 1/2 d. was found on him—I was 20 yards behind him when he ran into the passage and secreted himself in an area if Bell Yard.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was that a man gave him the cheque and asked him to change it.

RICHARD PENNY . I am barman to Mr. Clark, manager of the Hat and Feathers, Goswell Road—on 13th September, about 5 p.m., the prisoner came in for a small soda and offered a bad florin, which I showed to Mr. Clark—I told the prisoner it was bad—he said "Never mind, I have got plenty more money," and pulled out this bad florin—I told him it was bad—he said "It ain't; give me my change"—the manager gave him in charge, with the two florins—the prisoner walked up to the bar sober enough.

JOHN JOSEPH CLARK . I am manager at the Hat and Feathers—on 13th September I saw the prisoner in the house—Penny showed me a bad florin—I went across to the prisoner, and said "You have given me a bad two-shilling piece; you must give us something better than this"—he said "I am very sorry; I would not do such a thing; I am living in the neighbourhood, and my wife comes here for her beer every day"—I have not the slightest recollection of ever having seen him before—

he placed another piece on the counter—Penny came to me and said "This is another bad one; he has a lot more silver"—I found it was bad—he stood back; I thought he appeared to be preparing to slip out, and I went round to the door, sent for a constable, and gave him in custody with the two coins.

HENRY SEWELL (Policeman G 151). On 13th September I was called to the Hat and Feathers, where the last witness, charged the prisoner with uttering these two bad florins, which I received from Mr. Clark—I told the prisoner the charge—he said "I cannot help myself," or something of the kind—I searched him, and found a half-crown, two shillings, five sixpences, and threepence, and 1s. 2 3/4 d. bronze, all good—he gave his name as Francis Pain, and said "I decline to give my address"—I said "What is your occupation?"—he said "What is that to do with you"—he made no reply when I charged him.

Cross-examined. I don't think you were entered on the charge-sheet as a carpenter—I told you you appeared to be under the influence of drink—I saw a person who said he thought you were a respectable man—when the Magistrate asked if you were known, the head gaoler said he thought you were a respectable man—I don't remember his saying he knew you from a boy and had known your family, and knew you were highly respectable.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are both bad, and from one mould.

DONALD ROBERTSON . In 1871 I was warder at Pentonville—I saw the prisoner at the House of Detention, and to the best of my belief he is an old convict who has done five years' penal servitude for feloniously uttering—this is the certificate with his photograph, 9th January, 1871, at this Court, five years' penal servitude and seven years' police supervision for uttering, in the name of Francis Page.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was drunk and did not know what I was doing."

The prisoner in his defence stated that for the last 16 years, since he came out from penal servitude, he had gained an honest livelihood; that he had changed a sovereign on this day at a railway station, and must have obtained the bad florins in that way, and that he passed them when drunk without guilty knowledge.

GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his previous good character. — Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1027

1027. ELIZABETH JONES (23) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.

MESSRS. WILKINSONandCOOKEProsecuted.

EDWARD GARROD . I am 14 years old, and live with my parents at 176, Great Tichfield Street—on 14th October, at 4.30, I was in Marylebone Street—the prisoner came and said "Will you go up the corner and get me half a quartern of gin in a bottle and I will give you a penny?"—she gave me a florin—I went to the Crown and Sceptre and asked for the gin, and tendered the florin to Mr. Schwartz, who found it was bad—he gave me the gin, and accompanied me back to the prisoner, who was standing where I had left her—she was taken in custody.

HENRY THOMAS SCHWARTZ . I keep the Crown and Sceptre, at 27, Foley Street—on 14th October Garrod came in for some gin and gave

me a florin—I saw it was bad, bent it in the tester, told him so, and asked him where he got it—I gave him the gin in one of my bottles, but kept the florin—I followed him out of the bar, and afterwards saw him speak and give the gin to the prisoner—I crossed the road and said to her 'I want you; you must come back with me; I shall give you in custody for attempting to pass a bad two-shilling piece"—she said "All right"—she went back quietly with me to the public-house—I sent for a constable and gave her in custody—this is the coin—I handed it to the constable.

LOUIS ACOTT (Policeman D 419). Schwartz gave the prisoner into my custody and charged her with tendering a counterfeit coin, and gave me this coin—the prisoner said she had it given her last night—I asked her address, she made no answer.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This coin is counterfeit.

The prisoner in a written defence stated that she was an unfortunate, that the florin had been given to her, and that she did not know it was bad.

GUILTY .

She thenPLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of unlawful uttering in April, 1886, at this Court.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1028

1028. CHARLES VACHELL (32) and EDWARD LEVINE (30) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from Frederick George Fryer a clock and a pair of candelabra, and from John Sydney and Edward Benjamin Holiday a picture, and other goods from other people, with intent to defraud. Other Counts for conspiracy.

VACHELL PLEADED GUILTY .

MESSRS. POLANDandCHARLES MATHEWSProsecuted.

SARAH SMITH . I live at 64, Upper Berkeley Street, and let lodgings there—on Friday, 20th August, between 12 and 1 o'clock, the two prisoners came together, and Vachell said he came from Boston, America—I asked if Judge Moulton recommended them to me—he said "I don't know him personally, but I know his nephew"—they left, and returned I think together, between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon, bringing a small portmanteau and a leather hat-box—Vachell had taken my dining-room and bedroom in the morning, and said he was going to the station to get his luggage—when they came about 5 o'clock Captain Culhane, which was the name Vachell gave, said they would require dinner at 6 o'clock, and they remained and dined at 6 o'clock—while they were at dinner Mr. Fryer came with the clock and candelabra—after he had gone Vachell said to me in Levine's presence that he had bought some presents, pointing to the cupids, and the clock, and the candelabra, and that he was going to send them to America, as some one was going to be married; and I think he said he thought he would go and pack them that night and send them by the ship they came over to England in—I think he said "we" came over in—Levine did not contradict it—they left about 7 o'clock, telling my servant they were going to the theatre—Levine went first in a cab, which came to the house, and then Vachell went away on foot—the things were taken away from the house; I did not see them taken—I saw no more of the prisoners till I saw them at the police-court—on the 28th a constable opened the portmanteau and hat-box in my presence—there was no clothing in them, but a lot of old newspapers, boots, and wood, and waste paper.

Cross-examined. I gave a description of Vachell when I was brought up at the police-court—I did not describe you at all—Vachell engaged

the apartments for himself—I had no conversation with you—you did not move out of the hall when he took the rooms.

FREDERICK GEORGE FRYER . I am salesman to Mr. Emil Leon, who trades as Edwards and Roberts, as a fine art dealer, at 148, Wardour Street—on Friday, 20th August, Vachell came to my shop about 10 minutes to 2 and asked the price of two small ormolu cupid candelabra in the window, and if we had a clock that would go with them—I told him I would find one like them, but he said he would get something better, he would like something else—I showed him a 10-light candelabra and a clock, a complete set at 63 guineas—he said, "Well, they are rather more than I anticipated giving; I did not intend to go to more than 50l., as I wanted them for a present"—he would not buy them without his cousin, who was dining with him that evening about 6, seeing them, as he should like to have his opinion, "as he is a better judge than I am," and asked if I would send them to where he was lodging, 64, Upper Berkeley Street—he handed me a card with "Captain Culhane" and "64, Upper Berkeley Street, W.," lithographed on it—I said I would have them there at 6, and I sent them up in a van and called myself—I was shown into the dining-room, where I saw Captain Culhane and Levine dining—the things were shown to Culhane, who referred them to Levine, saying. "Do you think these will do for Judge Moulton? as I want them for him; if you think he will be pleased I will "have them, but you will have to make them pounds instead of guineas"—Levine said, "Well, I thought you did not intend giving more than 50l."—Culhane said, "Well, if you think they will do we will have them"—he said, "Yes, I think so"—I said, "Well, the things are not perfect, you had better let us have them back to put right"—one of the pins was missing in the pendulum of the clock—he said, "Subject to my friend's approval of them this evening, if you like to send for them to-morrow morning at 9 you can have them"—on that he went to a side table and wrote out this cheque—I said, "We don't know you, who are your New York bankers? what bankers have you there?"—he said, "I will satisfy you on that point," and he handed me this note of credit.

(This purported to be from Kidder, Peabody, and Co., addressed to Baring Brothers, requesting them to pay 70l. to the order of James Davis.) He had said before that he came from Boston—after I saw the name Peabody I thought it was right enough, and I took this cheque for 63l. signed "Culhane"—after receiving it I left my goods—next morning I went up about 9, but could hear nothing of the prisoners—I next saw my goods at a pawnshop, 66, High Street, Camden Town, where I identified them—the cheque was returned marked "No account"—I parted with my property because the man was so plausible, and I thought the cheque and the credit note were genuine.

Cross-examined. You did not enter my establishment with Vachell; he was alone, and chose the ornaments by himself—I saw Captain Culhane write the cheque; he gave it to me.

Re-examined. I have no doubt Levine was there.

JAMES WHITE . I am assistant to George Crosbie, pawnbroker, of 66, High Street, Camden Town—on Saturday, 21st August, about 9 a.m., Levine came and said a gentleman wished to pledge a clock and a pair of candelabra, could we take them in?—I said "Yes"—he went away, and five minutes or so afterwards a cab drove up, and Levine and Vachell

both came in, bringing the clock and candelabra, which they pledged with us in the name of George Hamblin, of 2, Manchester Square, for 30l.—this is the contract note, which Vachell signed "George Hamblin" in Levine's presence—I paid Vachell the money in Levine's presence.

Cross-examined. You asked first if I could lend 50l. on them, and I said I wanted to see them first—you said you would go and fetch a gentleman, who would bring them—at first I offered to lend him 25l., and then 30l.—I asked Vachell, I believe, whose property it was, and he said his own—he signed the agreement, and I handed him the money.

CHARLOTTE ASH . I am housemaid at 12, Weymouth Street—on Saturday, 11th September, at 4.15, the two prisoners came together, and Vachell asked what apartments we had got, and took the ground-floor sitting-room and bedroom—he gave his name as Colonel Vachell—he said he would go and bring their luggage from Euston—they went away together, and came back in about half an hour, bringing a box and a small portmanteau—they wanted dinner at 6, but bad it at 7—they dined together—in the course of the evening Mr. Holiday brought a picture, and was shown into a room where the two prisoners were—Levine asked mo to get a pen and ink for Colonel Vachell to write with—after that Mr. Holliday left the house—about 20 minutes after he had gone I looked through the window upstairs, and saw the two men with the picture in the cab driving away—they never returned—I saw the box and portmanteau opened; the box contained shavings and old matting, and the portmanteau pieces of wood and shavings and a pair of old shoes.

Cross-examined. I only gave a description of how the man with Vachell was dressed; he had a beard then, and when I saw him afterwards he bad not—I recognised you as soon as I saw you—Vachell took the rooms—you only asked for the pen and ink—I stared at you for some time; I had no suspicion of you—you dined there; my sister waited on you, I helped to clear away, I washed the things up afterwards downstairs.

Re-examined. Levine is the man that came with Vachell.

WILLIAM HOLIDAY . I am assistant to Henry Benjamin Holiday, a jeweller and dealer in works of art, at 38, Great Portland Street—at 6 o'clock on 11th September Vachell came and asked the price of a picture in the window—I told him 25l.—he said he would go and tell his cousin about it—10 minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards he came back, and asked to have the picture taken down that he might see it—I showed it to him—he gave the name of Colonel Vachell, and said he was an American, and wanted the picture for a wedding present, and that his cousin was to see it who was dining with him that evening—I agreed to do so, and sent my brother with the picture to 12, Weymouth Street—he brought me back this cheque for 25l.—it was paid into my banker's, and returned marked "No a count"—on 24th September I saw Vachell walking along York Place, Baker Street, and go into 15, York Place—I waited till he came out, spoke to a constable, and he was arrested—I afterwards saw the picture at the police-court.

Cross-examined. I did not see you at all—I sent the picture the same day by my brother.

JOHN SIDNEY HOLIDAY . I am the last witness's brother—on 11th September he gave me a picture to take to 12, Weymouth Street, where I was shown into the front room—Vachell and another man" who looked

something like Levine, and who had a beard, were there—Vachell said to him "Do you think she will like it?"—the man said "Yes"—a pen was sent for, and Vachell wrote this cheque—after receiving it, believing it was genuine, I left the picture—I gave the cheque to my brother—the picture was 6 by 4—this is my father's name on the cheque, "H. B. Holiday."

ARTHUR OVERALL . I am assistant to William Clark, pawnbroker, at 151, Hampstead Road—on 11th September, about 9 p.m., a picture was pledged with us for 5l. in the name of Charles Jamieson, Mecklenburg Square—I am not certain who pledged it—the police came to my shop, saw the picture, and we brought it to the police-court—it was 6 by 4—young Mr. Holiday saw and identified it at the police-court.

WILLIAM HOLIDAY . I identified this picture at Marlborough Street as the picture I sold to Vachell.

FLORENCE JONES. I am parlour maid to Mrs. Townley, of 8, Welbeck Street—she lets lodgings—on Saturday, 11th September, between 3.30 and 4 o'clock, the two prisoners came there; Vachell gave his name as Colonel Howard, and said he wanted the dining-room floor—Mrs. Townley agreed to let it to him—they were to have come back on the Saturday night, but did not, and they came on Monday, the 13th, in the afternoon—a box came in the evening, and they had dinner together there—Howard said Levine was his cousin—while at dinner Mr. Surrey came—about half an hour after dinner I missed the prisoners—I waited on them at dinner; Levine had then much more beard than he has now—I saw no more of them till 7th October, when I saw and identified Vachell—on 13th October I identified Levine—I afterwards saw that the contents of the box were six bricks.

Cross-examined. I gave no description of the man that dined with Vachell to the police—you are exactly like the man, except that you have not quite so much beard—I saw the two men both days, but I did not let the rooms myself—I have been two months in the situation—I cleared the things away after dinner, and then brought you some beer and glasses, and then I came back to fetch the glasses, and found you had gone—I washed up the things downstairs.

THOMAS SURREY . I am salesman to Mr. Frederick Lawrence, who trades as Lawrence and Co., at 111, New Bond Street, as dealer in works of fine art—on 13th September, between 6.30 and 7 o'clock, Vachell called, and gave the name of Howard, and said he wanted something for a wedding present—he selected a clock, value 63l., which he wanted packed and delivered at 8, Welbeck Street to show his cousin—I went that evening with the clock to 8, Welbeck Street, where I saw Vachell and another man—I showed the clock; Vachell asked the other man if it would suit—he said yes—they were sitting at the same dining-table together; they asked me to wait a few minutes, and I saw Vachell write this cheque—after I had received it I left the clock and came away—I parted with the clock believing the cheque was genuine—the cheque was afterwards paid into my master's account, and returned marked "No account"—I do not identify Levine.

LAWRENCE FRREDERICK LAWRENCE . I am a dealer in works of fine art, at 111, New Bond Street—I have seen my clock in the possession of Mr. Attenborough, pawnbroker; 11, Greek Street, Soho.

11, Greek street, Soho—on 14th October a clock was pledged with us for 12l. by Vachell, to the best of my belief in the name of Revoli, Gothic House, Leamington—this is the contract note—Mr. Lawrence has since identified it.

WILLIAM COOPER (Detective D). On 4th October, about 10.30, in consequence of instructions, I went to the Tottenham Court Road Police-station, where I saw Vachell—I read to him the warrant for conspiracy to defraud which I had for his apprehension—he said "That is right"—he was charged formally—I searched and found on him this cheque-book on the North-Western Bank, Limited, Liverpool, Islington branch, containing five blank cheques—this cheque for 5l. payable to Charles Revoli and signed Henry Davis; this demand note of Messrs. Peabody, two visiting cards, one "Mrs. Lawrence, Lower Seymour Street, Gloucester Square," and the other "Mrs. Turner, 83 and 84, Gloucester Square."

Cross-examined. I went to your place with another officer.

ALEXANDER LANGLANDS . I am manager of the Islington branch of the North-Western Bank, Liverpool, 4, Commutation Road—this cheque-book was issued to a customer named Harry Joseph on 9th July; these four cheques are taken from that book—we had no customer in August or September named Culhane, Vachell, Howard, or Davis—I know neither of the persons.

By theCOURT. Joseph's account was opened on 9th July with a small cash deposit, and it was practically closed on 13th July because we could not let him draw against a bill—we could not get the cheque-book back—neither of the prisoners is Joseph—I saw him twice.

WILLIAM JAMES (Police Sergeant D). I was present at Marlborough Street Police-court on 7th October, when Vachell was committed for trial—a woman was present whom I thought it my duty to follow as she left the Court, and I followed her to Bedford Passage, Camden Town, and kept observation on the house she went into there—on 9th October I went to that house and saw Levine in the first floor front room—I had a warrant for his arrest; I said "I am a police-sergeant, I shall arrest you on this warrant"—I read it to him, it was for conspiracy—he said "I know nothing at all about it, what I have done has been as a broker on commission. I know Sleder as a man who I met in the sale room"—no one had mentioned Sleder; it is the correct name of Vachell, who was mentioned as the co-conspirator—I took him to the station, where he was charged and identified by the witnesses from nine other people similarly dressed.

Cross-examined. You offered every possible facility for me to search your room, pointing out the drawers which I was most likely to overlook.

CHARLES GETHEN (Sergeant C). I went to 64, Upper Berkeley Street, and 8, Welbeck Street, and there saw the boxes and portmanteaus that had been left—on the portmanteau at 8, Welbeck Street, was the name "Col. Howard, passenger, Euston, London"—it contained bricks and paper.

Levine in his defence stated that he was a broker and commission agent, that he met Vachell at a sale room and offered his services as broker, that Vachell asked him if he knew a good pawnbroker, that he had pawned these things for Vachell merely as his agent, believing they were honestly come by, and merely received 10s. as commission.

1030. WILLIAM PAYNE (19) PLEADED GUILTY to robbery with violence on Mary Ann Brown and stealing a purse and 6s. 6d., her property.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1031

1031. CHARLES WILLIAM DRISCOLL (17) and HENRY EDWARD HARDING (18) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Stephen Colebrook and stealing 3l. 10s., his money. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.]— Six Months' Hard Labour each.

Reference Number: t18861025-1032

1032. GEORGE BROWN (32) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Frederick Holland and stealing a pipe and other articles, his property.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1033

1033. THOMAS DARBY (19) and JAMES EMMERTON (17) to burglary in the dwelling-house of George Saunders, and stealing a quantity of cigars and tobacco and 1l. 16s. 3d. in money, his property, Emmerton having been convicted of felony in March, 1886. [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] DARBY— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. EMMERTON— Nine Months' Hard Labour. And

Reference Number: t18861025-1034

1034. FRANCES SPINK to feloniously marrying George Spink, her husband George Gibbons being alive.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Days' Imprisonment.

ALICE GODWIN . I am the wife of Frederick Godwin, of 88, Carlisle Street—on September 5th, shortly after 11 p.m., I was walking round Paddington Green with my sister, and met the prisoner and three others—the prisoner said "Get out," and struck me on my mouth—I found my mouth bleeding, put up my hand, and found my dress undone at the top, and my brooch fell to the ground—the men went across the road and I called to my husband, who went across to them and followed one of them—the prisoner is the man who struck me—I saw him when he struck me, and when he crossed the road I saw him again.

Cross-examined. I was about half the length of this Court from the nearest lamp—I saw the men about two yards before they came up—the men I saw afterwards were just across the road, a little farther off than I am from you.

THOMAS JOHN CANE . I am a builder's assistant—on the night of 5th September I was with Mr. Godwin and two others, and the three women were in front of us; one of them made a complaint, and Mr. Godwin and I followed three men up the Harrow Road, and the prisoner said "I am not going to be followed about, I am going home"—he ran to 10, Stanley Mews, and we followed him—we could not get in, and got a policeman, but he could not get in, and we had to fetch more assistance—we ultimately got in, went upstairs, and found the prisoner in bed—I identified him as the man I had run after, and I never lost sight of him once from the time the complaint was made till he entered the house, and I swear he is the man I followed—I think he said that he had been in bed an hour and a half.

FREDERICK GODWIN . On September 5th I was on Paddington Green with Mr. Cane, following about 30 yards behind my wife; I heard a scream, and one of the ladies told me something—I crossed the road to some men by the drinking fountain and said "Who done it?"—they only mumbled—I kept with them and my wife came up and pointed to the man—he walked away, and I walked after him; he ran, and I nearly caught him as he walked into his house in Stanley Mews passage—I sent a policeman there, he was refused admittance; we got more assistance, and the prisoner was taken out of bed and I identified him, and my wife pointed him out—I swear he is the man.

Cross-examined. He was in bed and undressed.

MINNIE STEPHENS . I live at 71, North Street—on 5th September I was on Paddington Green with my sister., Mrs. Godwin, and another lady—we met the prisoner and two other men, and the prisoner struck my sister on her mouth and said, "Get out of the way"—I looked down and found my watch-chain broken—I told my brother, and he and two other gentlemen ran after the men—I am sure the prisoner is the man who struck Mrs. Godwin.

Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner at the station with a number of other men, I saw him alone—my sister and I went together into the room where he was.

CHARLES STEPHENS (Policeman F 113). On 5th September, about 11.30 p.m., I received information, went to 10, Stanley Mews, knocked at the door, and was admitted, and found the prisoner in bed—I charged him; he made no reply; he afterwards said, "I am innocent"—I took him to the station, where he was identified.

Cross-examined. He was not placed with a number of other men, though that is usual—I have made inquires about him, he bears a very good character; he is in the employ of the Paddington Vestry—about half an hour elapsed from the time of the robbery till I saw him undressed—he was sober—it is his own house.

GUILTY .— Four Days' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18861025-1036

1036. ROSE SOUND , Unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of her child.

MR. C. MATHEWSProsecuted.

TheRECORDERconsidered that as the prisoner had informed two persons of her pregnancy there was no case to go to the Jury.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1037

1037. FREDERICK WILLIAM GILES , Feloniously setting fire to certain matters and things in the dwelling-house of Robert Hughes.

MARY MARTIN . I am single—on Friday, 1st October, I was staying at my aunt's, 84, Buckingham Palace Road—I have seen the prisoner several times before; I saw him throwing stones a fortnight before—about 6.30 p.m. I went down to the front kitchen, and saw the prisoner put his hand through a broken window and put a lighted match through, and in a moment the curtains were in a blaze—I screamed, and my aunt rushed in and tore them down—I informed the police, and the prisoner was taken about 8 o'clock that evening—I am quite sure he is the boy.

Cross-examined. The kitchen is downstairs, and there is an area below the level of the street—there was no light in the kitchen—I went to a cupboard there, and my back was then to the window, but as I turned round I saw through—it was in the dusk, about 6.30 on 1st October, and I think it came on particularly dark on that day—I had seen the prisoner working next door, I am certain he is the boy—I did not expect the boy next door to set fire to the curtains, but he had been annoying us for about a fortnight—I only had a glimpse of this boy for a moment just below the level of the ground, and he was outside—there are trees in the garden—we have had two more fires since this in the same room.

Re-examined. The trees did not interrupt my sight—he has been out on bail, and I have seen him since about the house, and communicated with the police.

By theCOURT. The boy was between me and the trees; there was no gas-light outside.

EMMA HUGHES . My husband, Robert Hughes, is the landlord of 84, Buckingham Palace Road—he is a servant, and was in Scotland on this evening—I was in the back kitchen, and heard my niece scream "Oh, aunt, that boy is setting the curtains on fire"—I went into the front kitchen, and saw the curtain in a blaze—I tore it down, and sent for a constable—the curtain was worth about five shillings; it was not all consumed.

GEORGE GODLEY (Detective B). I was outside this house at a little after 6.30, and saw people about—I went in and saw Mary Martin at the door—from what she told me I searched the adjoining houses, and then went to Gillingham Street, Vauxhall Bridge Road, and saw the prisoner leave his house—I stopped him and said "Is your name Giles?"—he said "Yes"—I said "l am a police officer, and shall take you in custody for setting fire to 84, Buckingham Palace Road about 6.30"—he said "I know nothing about it; I can prove I have not been round Buckingham Palace Road; I have been with a boy named Dark and a boy named Arthur Rogers"—I took him to the station, placed him with five other lads about the same age and size, and the first witness picked him out without any hesitation—he then said "She knows me; she has seen me before"—when the charge was read over he said "I was not there; I do not know anything about it"—I found no matches on him, but I found this match outside the kitchen window, partly burnt.

Cross-examined. I was watching his house about 8 o'clock when he came out—he was named at 84, Buckingham Palace Road, and I knew where he lived.

1038. WILLIAM ALBERT WOODS (36) PLEADED GUILTY to marrying Mary Sawdye Holman during the lifetime of his wife.— Six Months' Hard Labour. (There was another indictment against the prisoner for stealing a watch, chain, and other articles, the goods of Mary Sawdye Holman.) And

Reference Number: t18861025-1039

1039. HENRY CALLIS (57) to feloniously stealing a steam cock, the goods of James Thomas Oakley and others; also to feloniously stealing four sets of stocks and dies, the goods of Ira Miller, after a conviction** of felony in March, 1881.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18861025-1040

1040. GEORGE BATE (24) , Robbery with violence on Georgina Goodall, and stealing her watch.

MR. DE MICHELE Prosecuted.

GEORGINA GOODALL . I am an unfortunate—I live at 147, Vauxhall Bridge Road—on the night of 13th September, about a quarter to 10, I was the worse for drink, and was drinking in the Shakespere in the Buckingham Palace Road—I saw the prisoner outside, and we were walking along the Buckingham Palace Road, and he said to me "Have you got a watch attached to your chain?"—I said I had—he said "Show it to me"—I did so, and replaced it in my breast pocket; my steel chain showed outside—when we got near Wellington Barracks he threw me down on the steps of the last house, and that is all I remember till I saw the prisoner struggling on the ground with the constable, about three minutes after I was knocked down, I should think—my watch was an aluminium one, and worth about five shillings—the prisoner took it off the clasp of the chain—this in the watch.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I had been drinking all day—I met you outside the Shakespere—I might have asked you how much money you had got—I don't remember asking you to take a walk—I was never in the Snowshoes—you might have treated me to two glasses of whisky—I don't remember your saying you had no more money, and "Let us pawn your watch"—I did not give it to you—you did not strike me; you just threw me down—I was not hurt.

WILLIAM IVES . I am a clerk, and live at 12, Victoria House, Francis Street, Vauxhall Bridge Road—I am quite a stranger to the complainant—on the evening of the 13th, at 20 minutes past 10, I was by the Duchy of Cornwall Office at the top of the Buckingham Palace Road, and I saw the prisoner and prosecutrix coming towards Wellington Barracks—he appeared to be hustling her about—he did not seem to be drunk, but she appeared to be in a state of partial intoxication—he tripped her up on her back, and appeared to snatch something away from the breast pocket of her jacket—directly she got up he tripped her up on her back again—he stood there for about a second, when a policeman came up and asked him what he was doing—as soon as he saw the policeman he ran down James Street, and the policeman after him—I saw the prisoner and constable struggling on the ground.

Cross-examined. I did not see you strike the girl or the police—I was about three yards off when you took something from her pocket.

ERNEST JONES (Policeman A 667). On the night of the 13th I was on duty at Buckingham Gate, and saw the prisoner and prosecutrix proceedings

down the Buckingham Palace Road, and then standing at the corner of the Duchy of Cornwall—the prisoner put his arm round her neck, throwing her upon the steps of the Duchy of Cornwall Office—she went on her back—I proceeded there as quickly as possible—on seeing me he ran away up York Street, Westminster, towards Victoria Street—the prosecutrix made a complaint to me, in consequence of which I ran after the prisoner and overtook him—he had run about 400 yards—I said "You will have to come back"—he said "I shall not"—after a little hesitation he came back—before I took him, when behind him, I saw him throw something shining into the road—on coming back with him I picked up this watch (which the prosecutrix identified) in the road at the place where I had seen him throw something away—he said he should not come any farther—we had a struggle; we both fell to the ground—I whistled for assistance—I searched him, and found only 1 1/2 d. in his possession.

Cross-examined. You bit me and brought blood from my hand—the marks are not visible now—if I had not had you by the collar you would have bit me more—you asked me in the morning when you came out of the cells what you had been up to, and I told you—you were something the worse for drink, not much—the prosecutrix was evidently the worse for drink.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I have nothing to say."

The prisoner in his defence stated that he had been drinking with the prosecutrix, and that she lent the watch to him that he might pawn it that they might spend the night together; that she was drunk and fell down, and that he wanted to go to the barracks as no pawnshops were open.

JULIA CORMACK . I live at 15, Chapel Place, Belgrave Square; I am a charwoman—on Thursday night, 26th August, at half-past 10 o'clock, I was in Park Lane—I there got into conversation with the witness Brown, a butler; he came and spoke to me in the street—I had seen him before, I knew who he was—I chatted with him, and we went into the park and sat down on a seat—we were not there five minutes, no impropriety whatever took place between us, when the prisoner came up, he was in plain clothes—he said he was a detective from Scotland Yard, he said we were acting indecently, that Brown was disarranging my clothes—I said there was nothing of the kind—he said, "Well, I don't wish to give you in charge"—Brown said he could do as he pleased—the prisoner said, "If you go about till it is 4 o'clock in the morning I shall follow you"—Brown said, "Very well, then I will give you a walk"—the prisoner demanded our names and addresses—Brown gave his correct name and address, "Ellis Brown, 31, Grosvenor Square," that was his master's house—I gave my correct name, "Julia Cormack,"

and my address as "15, Chapel Place, Belgrave Square," but I do not think he put that down—he had a book, and he appeared to write something in a book; I think it was a larger one than that (produced)—we went through the park up to the Marble Arch, the prisoner following us about a yard behind; he said he would continue following us—Brown turned round on him and said he could do what he pleased, he did not care whether he was a detective or not, he had done nothing to be ashamed of—Brown then took me into 31, Grosvenor Square to avoid him—the housemaids were there, but I think not the family—the prisoner was outside; he rang the bell eight or nine times, and he put his foot in the door as we went in to prevent the door being shut—he rang about eight times—Brown answered it, he did not answer all the rings—we were in the house altogether about an hour and a half, looking out of the window; we could not see him, it was a dark spot—after that time we came out—we saw nothing of the prisoner—we walked along together as far as Stanhope Street, we then parted—about two minutes after Brown had left me the prisoner came across to me—he said, "You have kept me waiting a long time, what are you going to give me for my trouble?"—I said, "I will give you nothing"—he said, "Then you come with me to Vine Street"—I told him I would do so—as we went along we met a policeman in uniform—the prisoner said to him, "I demand this woman's name and address"—I told the policeman I would not give it him any more because he had already got it, but I would give it to him (the policeman), and I did give him my correct name and address—the policeman then said to the prisoner, "Show me your authority for being a detective from Scotland Yard"—the prisoner called him a b—fool to ask for such a thing—the policeman called another policeman from the opposite direction and said, "We had better take him to Vine Street, and take the woman as well"—we went to Vine Street—the inspector asked me if I would charge him with accosting me; I said "No"—he was detained—I heard no more of it till I was summoned to appear at Maryborough Street to give evidence against him some time afterwards.

Cross-examined. I made the same statement to the Magistrate that I have to-day—I am sure the prisoner said he was a detective from Scotland Yard—I did not mention that before the Magistrate, I was not asked—I was quite sober when the prisoner came up to us, so was Brown—the prisoner was not drunk—I did not see much difference in him to what he is now—we were sitting on two chairs in the park when the prisoner came up; about 10 yards from the gate—after the prisoner spoke to us we went through the park to the Marble Arch; we did not go the nearest way; we gave him the longest way—we passed a policeman in uniform in coming out; we did not say anything to him, because we really thought the prisoner was a detective—I did not hear Brown say he did not think he was a detective; he said he did not care whether he was or not—I don't know what he told him; he told me he expected he was extorting money, that was why he was following us—the prisoner was about a yard from me when Brown said that—that was before we got to the Marble Arch—the constable in uniform was at the gate to let us out; the gates were closed—we had walked all over the park from 10.30 to 12 o'clock, the prisoner following us for about an hour in the park; about a yard behind us—he said he should follow us wherever we went—I had never

been in the park before that night; I know it—the Marble Arch is about a quarter of an hour's walk from Stanhope Gate to walk moderate—we were sitting on the seats in the park when the prisoner asked for our names and addresses—I gave my correct name then, but at 31, Grosvenor Square I gave the name of Brown on the doorstep, because I was so annoyed—I have not had any conversation with Brown since I was before the Magistrate, for he went away to the Isle of Wight the next day, and he was subpoenaed here yesterday, and I was not allowed to speak to him—I have not had any conversation with Constable Howick with regard to the case—when the prisoner came up to me after Brown left me, the words he used were "You have kept me waiting a long time, what are you going to give me for my trouble?"—I told the Magistrate what he said—I was alarmed when he kept continually following me—we went into the house to avoid him—it was in Mayfair that the prisoner asked the constable to take my name and address—there was a little short man there at the time; he followed us to the station—I should know him again; he looked like a waiter—I did not make any charge against the prisoner at the station, because I did not wish to be bothered about it—I have been in trouble for drunkenness once, since this occurrence—I was in prison for drunkenness when the prisoner was remanded—the prisoner never mentioned the word "money" to me, only when he asked what was he to get for his trouble—Brown did not appear at the police-court.

ELLIS BROWN . I am a butler, in the employment of Mr. Gwynne Holford—in August last I was stopping at 31, Grosvenor Square—on the 26th I was in Park Lane about 11 o'clock; I had been to the theatre—I met Cormack, and entered into conversation with her—we went into the park, just inside Grosvenor Gate—we sat down on chairs from two to five minutes, when the prisoner accosted me—he accused me of indecency—he said "I am a detective of Scotland Yard, and you will hear more of this"—he asked my name and address, which I gave—I believe he wrote it down, but I did not notice—I then got up, and walked out at Grosvenor Gate and homo to Grosvenor Square—at the time he asked my address he asked Cormack's name, and I believe she said "Jenny Brown"—the prisoner followed us close behind—I said "Why need you follow me? I have given you my full name and address"—I said "I do not believe you are a detective; I believe it is only an imposition, to extort money"—he continued to follow us to the very door of 31, Grosvenor Square—as we were going in he put his foot between the door and doorpost to prevent my closing it, and I could not for some little time—I don't remember his producing a book—I took the woman into the house with me; I let myself in with a latchkey—after we got in the prisoner rang the bell two or three times; at last he ceased ringing, and walked up and down in front of the house—I watched him from the hall window for about three-quarters of an hour or an hour; after that I lost sight of him—I then let the woman out—I should think that was between 12 and 1 o'clock—there was somebody else in the house—I accompanied Cormack to Stanhope Gate—I looked about to see if the prisoner was there, but I could not see him, and I let her go on by herself thinking she was then safe from being molested—I went to Wales the next day—I next heard of the matter last Wednesday morning by being served with a subpoena at Buckland,

Brecknockshire, and I was here yesterday for the first time—I had not seen Cormack since that night until I saw her in Court yesterday.

Cross-examined. After the prisoner had accosted us we moved away at once and went towards Grosvenor Gate, and went out at that gate, we made no stoppage on the way—we did not go to the Marble Arch—Cormack was with me all the time—the prisoner followed us the whole way—I am quite sure that he said he was a detective from Scotland Yard—nothing was said about disarranging her dress, if it had been said I must have heard it—the seats were about 100 or 150 yards from Grosvenor Gate, between Stanhope Gate and Grosvenor Gate, under an avenue of trees—when the prisoner first accosted me I did not call him a thief, or any name, only that I did not believe he was a detective and only wished to extort money—Cormack might have heard me say that—we passed a policeman in uniform at Grosvenor Gate, he let us out—I did not say anything to him—I was leaving town next morning and did not want to have anything more to do with it—I believe the prisoner wrote down my name and address—I saw him with a paper or book in his hand, I could not say which—I did not walk about the park with Cormack previous to sitting down—I did not tell the prisoner that she was my sister—I believe she said she was my sister—I did not offer to stand the prisoner a drink—I had no stick with me—I had not threatened him in any way before he followed us.

GEORGE HOWICK (Policeman C 111). On 27th August I was on duty in Mayfair—I saw the prisoner following Julia Cormack in East Chapel Street—he met me, tapped me on the shoulder, and said "Follow me"—he said he was a detective from Scotland Yard, and he wanted the woman's name and address—she was about 20 yards in front of him—I went after her and stopped her—I said "This man is a detective, and wants your name and address"—she said "I have given it to him twice already, I won't give it to him any more, but I will give it to you"—I took out my book and took down her name and address, "Julia McCormack, 15, Chapel Place, Belgrave Square"—I have not got my book with me—the prisoner was standing by at the time—I asked him for his authority, his warrant card—plain clothes officers usually carry one—he said I did not know my duty—I said if he did not produce his authority I should take him into custody—he refused to do so, and I took him into custody—I asked him why he wanted the woman's name and address; to said that was his own business, and he said I was a fool and did not know my duty—I took him to Vine Street Station, Cormack went with us—the inspector took the charge, it was for falsely representing himself to be a police constable—he was asked his name and address, and gave it as Richard William Fuller, 242, Bird and Bush Road, Old Kent Road—he was detained in custody and I went back to my duty—a man named Rogers had followed us to the station; I saw him as soon as I took the prisoner into custody, he was out there smoking his pipe—he came to the station, but he declined to say anything on either side—a second constable came up; I sent him after the woman, so that she might follow on to the station.

Cross-examined. Rogers declined to have anything to say at the station, to simply gave his name and address—I was there the whole time that he was—he was not present when the prisoner came up and touched me—I did not see him till I had the prisoner in custody, in Chapel Street,

he came up then—I don't know where he came from—he was not present when I said to Cormack that the prisoner said he was a detective from Scotland Yard—the prisoner did not say he was a private detective—Rogers did not say at the station that the prisoner did not say he was a detective from Scotland Yard, and he was not then kicked out—the prisoner gave his correct name and address next morning, and also gave seven or eight names and addresses of persons he referred to—I do not know that he has been attached to a private inquiry office.

EDWARD DREW (Detective C) I saw the prisoner about 10 o'clock on the morning of 27th August, when he was brought to the police-court to be taken before the Magistrate—I searched him, and found on him this memorandum-book—in it are these entries: "Mr. Ellis Brown, 31, Grosvenor Square," and "Jane Brown, 15, Hillin or Hilton Street, Pimlico"—it has a number of other names and addresses in it, and various memoranda—I went to try and find 242, Bird and Bush Road, there was no such place—he also gave an address 72, Sidney Street, Commercial Road East—I went there; that was his address; it is a private house—he is not a detective—I have searched the books and made every inquiry.

Cross-examined. He has been employed under Meiklejohn, a private inquiry agent, for eight days, from 28th June to 6th July—he gave the names and addresses of two of his sisters.

THOMAS ROOTS (Police Inspector, Scotland Yard). I know every officer attached to Scotland Yard—the prisoner is in no way connected with the police.

GEORGE HOWICK (Re-examined). The prisoner appeared to be sober when I took him; he might have had a drink; he was not drunk, not enought to be charged with being drunk—he was slightly the worse for liquor.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I say most emphatically that I did not say I was a member of the Metropolitan Police."

Witness for the Defence.

CHARLES ROGERS . I am a waiter, and live at 3, Carrington Street, Mayfair—on the night of 27th August I was at the corner of the Old Chesterfield Arms about a quarter to 1 o'clock—I saw two policemen, a man, and a woman at the corner of Hay ward's oil shop about 50 yards from me—I went up to them—I heard Mr. Footer desire the constable (C 111) to take the name and address of the young woman—she said she had been with the butler and was going into the park, and that he had proposed taking her to his house—I did not hear any charge made by the constable against the prisoner—he said to the prisoner "Are you a detective?"—the prisoner said "Yes, I am"—the constable asked him to show his card of authority—the prisoner said he should not do so—I did not hear him call the constable a b—fool; no bad language was used—when they went to the station I followed—I heard C 311 charge the prisoner with representing himself to be a detective—the prisoner said "I never said I was a detective; I said I was a private inquiry agent"—the constable said that the prisoner had said he was a detective of the Metropolitan Police attached to Scotland Yard, and there was never such a thing mentioned in my hearing.

JOHN DAVIDSON (City Detective). On 6th September I went to Lawton's premises, 37, Wilton Street, Pimlico—I had previously seen him in custody; I was with Detective Palmer, Mr. Holloway, and four gentlemen from various departments at Messrs. Pawson's—it is a fancy draper's shop—I saw Lawton's wife, who produced from various parts of the shop nine ladies' jackets. (MR. WADDYobjected to evidence being given of goods being found at Lawton's premises, he having pleaded guilty.MR. WILLSstated that he tendered it to prove that Wicks had dishonest dealings with Lawton. TheRECORDERadmitted the evidence.) She also produced one dolman, some pieces of silk, a quantity of gloves, ostrich feathers, silk handkerchiefs, and two boxes of beaded gimp; that was all shown to Mr. Holloway and Messrs. Pawson's assistants, who were present, and identified by them—these (produced) are the handkerchiefs and gloves—on the same night, about 10 minutes to 12, I went with Detective Palmer and Mr. Smith to 13, Ashby Road, Canonbury, where Wicks resided—I said to him "l am a police officer; I have a man in custody of the name of James Lawton, charged with stealing and receiving ladies' jackets and other things; I have some information that you have been buying such things from him; will you produce what you have bought?"—he said "I have bought a few things"—I said "I am told you have bought a lot"—he said "I will show you what I have got"—he showed us into a drawing room, and on a sofa I saw a number of ladies' jackets, and under the sofa I found a box containing silk, and upon some chairs other jackets and lengths of silk; on the piano were four parcels of socks, and on the floor five ladies' handbags, and two pairs of new boots—I said "Where did you get the jackets and silk from?"—he said "I bought them from Lawton"—I said "What did you pay for them, and where did you buy them?"—he said "Some I bought at his shop at Pimlico, others he had sent to me by Carter Paterson and other carriers"—I said "Have you any receipts for them?"—he said "No; I have always paid cash; I have paid from 5s. to 15s. for some of the jackets; that one," pointing to this silk dolman, "cost 3l.; the silk I gave from 2s. to 2s. 4 1/2 d. for, I got about 2d. a yard profit; some of the silk I have had sent back, as I could not sell it at the price Lawton wanted for it"—I said "The ladies' jackets and silk have been identified as stolen from Messrs. Pawson and Co. and Messrs. Holloway and Sharpe, of St. Paul's Churchyard, and you must consider yourself in my custody for receiving them, knowing them to

have been stolen"—he said "I did not know they were stolen or I should not have had them about the room like this; if I had known they were stolen I should have had nothing to do with them"—I said "Do you know the position of Lawton at Hollo way and Sharp's?"—he said "Yes; I thought he had authority to buy these things; he told me he could buy them cheap"—we then went with Wicks to all the rooms in the house, from some of which he produced other jackets and lengths of silk; some were in drawers, and the dolmans and jackets were taken from a wardrobe and a cupboard, one of them appeared to have been worn—he said "I bought them from Lawton"—we brought them away and went with Wicks to a warehouse occupied by him in Duncan Street, Islington—it is a long building from 60 to 100 feet long, and is used as a warehouse for storing goods; there was a large quantity of cloth cuttings in bags piled from the floor to the ceiling, and pictures, dress materials, and marble clocks and furniture—when we arrived there Wicks took off his coat and said "I am ready, which part will you commence at first?"—I said "You can assist by showing us where they are"—he said "I will assist you if you will let me"—we went into a room leading from the warehouse, and from under some canvas wrappers he produced a number of ladies' jackets, and from under a bench in the same room a parcel of silk which Mr. Harcourt Smith identified—Wicks said "This came back from Young, I paid 44," or "4s. 4d.," I am not sure which, "I bought it from Lawton"—we all then went to the station, and Wicks was placed with Lawton, who was charged with stealing fifteen ladies' jackets, thirteen Ulsters, two waterproofs, four dolmans, two cards of lace, and two cards of gimp trimming—Wicks was charged with receiving the same knowing it to have been stolen; Lawton made no reply, Wicks said "I did not know they were stolen, I have had large transactions of business with Lawton, but if I had known they were stolen I should not have had anything to do with them"—a day or two afterwards I went to Young's, he is an auctioneer at Cherry Tree Court, Aldersgate Street—this (produced) is the parcel found under the bench in the warehouse, and this is the silk which came from Wicks's private house—these two parcels, marked "E" and "F" I got from Mr. Young—this box marked "L" contains feathers, silk, handkerchiefs, and gloves, it was found in one of the bedrooms at Wicks's house.

Cross-examined byMR. WADDY. I had never been to his warehouse before—he first mentioned the fact that he had goods at the warehouse, and then I said I should like to go there and see them, and he said "Very well, if you must go to-night I must go and fetch the keys from my foreman"—from the moment I told him I was a police officer he seemed fair and candid in all he said—both at the warehouse and his house he picked out these articles and said "I bought this from Lawton"—there was painted on the warehouse gates "Joseph Wicks, woollen and silk merchant," and Lawton's name was painted up outside his shop—I found at Lawton's shop a number of invoices from Pawson and Co. and Holloway and Sharpe—no goods have been identified in Wicks's possession as being Pawson's except what he himself showed us, he has actually shown us more than they can identify.

Re-examined. When I was at his house I asked him if he had any other place of business, and he said, "Yes, a warehouse"—I said, "Are there any goods there?" and he said, "Yes, there are a few things

there"—Lawton's is rather a large shop—I saw some of Pawson's invoices there, they were for small amounts.

WILLIAM HOLLOWAY . I carry on business as a mantle manufacturer under the style of Holloway and Sharpe in St. Paul's Churchyard—there is one house intervening from Pawson's—Lawton has been in my employ, I think, 20 years—I was not aware that he had a shop—I have known Wicks 10 or 15 years, and during the last eight or 10 years I have had transactions with him—he used to come once a week and clear away the cuttings, what we call rags—I do not deal in lengths or pieces of silk, or silk handkerchiefs or gloves—Lawton had no authority to sell or dispose of any capes or mantles in my possession—I have sold him capes and silks—I went to Wicks's house with the detective, and found capes, Ulsters, and other things, and some at the warehouse—I have looked them through, they belong to me, I never sold them to Lawton or to any person; most of them are this season's goods—the value of the things found at Wicks's is about 44l.—I have also seen the dolmans and capes and other articles found at Lawton's; they are my property—I cannot say positively whether I sold the capes to him, but the other Things were never sold to him by me or any one in my employ; I have no entry in any of my books of the sale of these particular things to Lawton or to Wicks. (MR. WADDYobjected to any evidence of goods being found unless they were found at Wicks's or in his possession, and had been stolen.MR. WILLScontended that as Lawton was charged with stealing, the circumstances must be admissible, as it was incumbent on the prosecution to prove the theft of Lawton before proving the receipt by Wicks with a guilty knowledge. TheRECORDERadmitted the evidence.) I have never sold goods of this description to Wicks, my transactions with him have been confined to the clippings and cuttings from the warehouse—Lawton and Wicks were arrested on the evening of 6th September, and I received a parcel from Mrs. Wicks the next evening, which I sent in to Messrs. Pawson.

Cross-examined. I had to send for the parcel after Mrs. Wicks had communicated to me that it had come—that was after her husband was charged with this offence—some of these goods had still the tickets on, them when we found them—there was no distinguishing mark on the material of which the goods were made—Wicks said in my presence, "Lawton told me he could buy goods from Holloway and Sharpe at a cheap rate"—Wicks has borne a good character in the trade for all I know—the entire value of my goods found at Lawton's is, I think, 16l. 10s.

LESLIE HARCOURT SMITH . I am a clerk in the silk department at Messrs. Pawson and Co.'s—I went with Mr. Holloway and the two detectives to Lawton's house, and then to Wicks's house, and saw the silk found and delivered up, and I identify a good deal of it as ours—some of it is made expressly for our order, and Pawson's are the only people who deal in it—that with the red, white, and blue border is part of it—we missed 28 1/2 yards of a piece, and we found it in two lengths; one length of 101/4 yards was found at Young's, and the other length of 181/4 yards was found in the parcel which was delivered up by Mrs. Wicks—we also found 173/8 yards at Young's, and 237/8 and 253/4 yards at Duncan Street, and we had missed 531/4 yards of that piece—we also had a piece in stock numbered a 1313, of which we missed 653/4 yards, and we

found two pieces in the parcel making exactly those yards; also a piece numbered 2317, of which we missed 671/4 yards, and we found that quantity, less a quarter, at Duncan Street—we also missed 61 1/4 yards of a piece numbered F 9896, and we found all that but half a yard—the value of the whole of the property we found was as nearly as possible 200l.—the average price of the pieces is about 4s., some of it is as high as 7s. a yard—A 1313 is 4s. a yard—I have measured most of these lengths, they average from 20 to 30 yards; there are a few small lengths—there is 711/4 yards in three lengths, costing 9s. 5 1/2 d., and 987/8 yards in three lengths at 5s. 4d., and 64 1/2 yards in two lengths at 4s. 41/2 d., and 173/8 yards at 3s., and 101/4 yards at 3s. 71/2 d.—a good deal of the silk I have identified has been missed from stock since the last stock-taking in June—I have not sold any silks personally to either Lawton or Wicks.

Cross-examined byMR. WADDY. The 200l. does not include all that is missing from the stock-book; it includes all that was found at Wicks's warehouse, and at Lawton's and Young's—the average value of this silk is 4s. a yard—I have gone into it carefully since I was before the Magistrate—the question was sprung on me there, and I said then that the average value was 3s. 6d.—the information has been derived from my stock-book—that contains a list of all the goods we have in stock, and as fast as goods go out they are marked off in the counting-house; if sold direct the entry is taken from our book, and deducted from the stock-book—I am not responsible if an error is made—the stock-book is supposed to be made up every day—my estimate of the value of Messrs. Pawson's goods found at Wicks's house is 34l., and those found at his warehouse is 57l. 13s. 1d.—those two sums do not include the parcel returned by Mrs. Wicks—I had this book before the Magistrate, but the amounts have been written out since then—you get the amounts at the bottom of the pages—the private letters are the cost prices—the 5863/8 is those amounts added together—the 34l. is what we have lost, what other men have stolen as well—this, "Goods found at Young's," means all that was found at his place, or through him—I went round to Young's office with Detective Davidson—I saw a parcel of goods there—that is the amount found at Young's—the amount is 7/91/8; that is the cost to Pawson's.

Re-examined. The cost price of Young's parcel was 89l. 17s. 5d., 369 yards—the value of the goods found at Asby Lodge was 33l. 9s. 11d., and those found at Duncan Street, 123 2/9, 57l. 13s. 1d., and the value of the parcel returned by Mrs. Wicks was nearly 21l., 1323/4 yards—the Ashby Lodge parcel was 182 1/2 yards—there are other entries in the book supposed to be missing from the stock.

WILLIAM EDDIS . I am in the glove department at Pawson's—I have seen the gloves produced, and have been shown those found at Wicks's and at Lawton's—I identify those found at Lawton's by a special band—27l. worth were found at Lawton's, and about 3l. at Wicks's house—I have no doubt where they came from; this is our special band—the selling price of the black kids is 2l. 2s. 9d., the whites 1l. 4s. 9d., and the browns 1l. 6s. 9d.—I did not sell any of the gloves I have seen either to Lawton or Wicks at any time, or to anybody.

Cross-examined. I have sold gloves to Lawton several times, but not of the kinds produced—the entire value of the gloves found at Wicks's house is 2l. 10s. or 3l.—I have only sold two lines of kids to him within two years.

FREDERICK GEORGE WOODS . I am in the silk handkerchief department at Pawson's—I was present on 6th September, when Davidson seized the goods at Lawton's shop—I saw the handkerchiefs there, and identified some of them as having been taken from Messrs. Pawson's—there are 14 dozen—I have a doubt about the others, but we have the same pattern, and the same handkerchief in stock; the others I am quite certain about—the average selling price of them is 25s. a dozen—I have also seen the handkerchiefs found at Wicks's; we have the same in stock now.

MR. YOUNG. I am a warehouseman and auctioneer, of 53, Aldersgate Street—I have known Wicks about four years—I first did business with him six or seven months ago—I have the receipts here which he gave in those cases—this (produced) is the first one—here is a receipt in Wicks's writing "19.5.86, received of Messrs. Young 50l., the next is June 2nd for a balance of 3l. 16s. 4d., and the next is "June 21st, satins, skirtings, and other goods, 60l."—I have no lists of any of those goods in any of my books—it was a sale to me, and then I sell the things by auction again—on June 29th there is this receipt for goods sold to me by him: "June 29th, 568 1/2 yards of silk and satin at 2s. 9d., 89l. 14s. 4d.," and 40 of gros at 2s., and 18 dozen gloves at 1s. 6d., and 93 silk handkerchiefs at 1s. 4d."—on July 13th I paid 89l. 14s. 4d. for the things bought—on July 14th I bought 332 yards of silk and satin at 2s. 8d.; 100 silk handkerchiefs at 1s. 4d., and one dozen of gloves at 18s.—on August 13th I bought 43 gloves at 1s. 6d. from him, and paid him 52l. 2s. 2d. the same day—the total amount of that parcel, with a slight reduction, was 87l. 6s. 10d.; it contained 43 gloves at 1s. 6d., 274 silk handkerchiefs at 1s. 4d., and 4945/8 yards of silk at 2s. 8d.—on 20th August I bought 3223/4 yards of silk at 2s. 8 1/2 d., making a total of 43l. 14s. 1d. paid on the same day—on the 21st there is 63 yards of silk at 2s. 8 1/2 d., making a total of 8l. 10s. 7d.—on August 28th there is "108 silk handkerchiefs at 1s. 4d., 7l. 4s.," and 70 pairs of gloves at 1s. 6d., making a total of 12l. 9s. for the whole lot—all these gloves were kid on account of the price—I was able to recover some of the silk I had resold, and I handed it over to the detective; it was part of the silk in the parcel sold to me on 20th and 21st August; to the best of my belief it was 3693/8 yards; we could not trace any more than that—Mr. Harcourt Smith afterwards came to my house and saw the 369 yards which I had got back.

Cross-examined. Those were fair and reasonable sales—Wicks did not send me things to sell for him, I bought them out and out, and gave him a cheque for them—on one occasion I couldn't give the price he asked, and sent them back—these goods were sold by auction at Alders-gate Street—I must have sold goods for Wicks because here is the commission charged, at the bottom—I don't know as a fact that the goods on this list were reclaimed by Mr. Pawson, but I believe so—I believe I had sold them in the first instance; I don't know where I got them—different persons bring me goods to sell, and it is impossible for me to remember, but some of the goods traced were bought by persons I cannot trace now—sales go on once a fortnight—during the four years I have known Wicks he has been constantly attending my sales, and buying all kinds of miscellaneous things—he has bought goods of me and sold goods through me—when I have a sale I previously publish a

catalogue, generally addressing it to wardrobe dealers and others—it states where the sale rooms are, 2 and 3, Cherry Tree Court, and contains a general statement of the sale, whether there is rich lace, alpaca, velvet, kid gloves, or boots—we post about 200 of them—I did not send any to Pawson's—I send them to people who are likely to buy, and I did not think they were—this (produced) is one of my catalogues—the 116 handkerchiefs are silk, but it is not on the bill—I do not know Lawton; he has not bought things by auction from me to my knowledge, but a great many people come there—I have no book—when I knock a thing down to a person I do not know, I tell him to come forward and pay the money to the clerk; his name is not taken—as far as I saw from first to last there was nothing in the way in which Wicks came to deal with me unusual, or wrong, or irregular.

Re-examined. I couldn't say that the 8223/4 yards of silk at 2s. 8 1/2 d. which I bought from him on August 20th he had bought of me—there is no pretence for saying that he bought this silk of me at previous sales—he did not buy the 63 yards of me at any auction—I don't believe I sold those 108 silk handkerchiefs at 1s. 4d. to him, nor the gloves at 1s. 6d., but we have sold him gloves—I cannot point out any entry in any book of the sale of 70 pairs of gloves to Lawton about that time—on August 13th I bought 4945/8 yards of him; I had not sold that to him before, nor did I sell him the 332 yards of silk and satin at 2s. 8d. which I bought of him on July 14th; neither did I sell him the 568 1/2 yards of silk and satin at 2s. 9d. which I bought of him on June 29th—the parcel I bought on the 21st was sold, not by us, to Messrs. Edwards and Phillips by auction, and we got them back—I should say I did not sell Wicks any silk, handkerchiefs, or gloves between June and September.

By theCOURT. I take out a licence as an auctioneer—my business consists to a great extent in selling my own goods in a sale-room; I knock them down—an auctioneer is an agent—one part of my business is to sell goods in that way, and another part is to sell goods consigned to me by public tender.

ALFRED GEORGE SERJEANT . I live at Thurley Street, Peckham—I was a packer in the employ of Pawson and Co., Limited, for 10 years; Noyes was also a packer there—I knew Lawton; he was a packer at Holloway and Sharpe's, and Perry was another packer there—I had a conversation with Perry and Lawton at the Bell public-house three or four months ago, and after that I spoke to Noyes, and then he and I began to take things from Pawson and Co., mostly lengths of silk, and gloves and silk handkerchiefs, and a very few feathers—they were taken to Holloway and Sharpe's; I took some and so did Noyes, and put into a hamper there as had been arranged—that went on from time to time until the period when the arrest took place—at the end of the week I got money from Lawton, and shared it with Noyes and Perry—the parcels were taken in about four times a week—there were various times gloves, and various times silk handkerchiefs.

Cross-examined. I never knew Wicks.

EBENEZER PERRY . I was a packer at Holloway and Sharpe's—I knew Lawton—I knew that these parcels were brought in from Pawsons and put in the hamper, and they were then made into parcels, and I gave them to Lawton—I know a boy named Green; I used to give them to

him to take to cloak-rooms at Aldersgate Street and Ludgate Hill Stations for Lawton, and I gave the ticket to Lawton.

HARRY GREEN . I am a messenger at Holloway and Sharpe's—I was in the habit of taking pareels to Aldersgate Street and Ludgate Hill Stations for Lawton and Perry—I used to give the ticket to the one who gave me the parcel—I don't remember sending any parcels to Wicks—I can't tell when I took the last parcel to Aldersgate Street; it was left in the name of Wicks.

Cross-examined. I cannot say whether it was the last one, but I left one in the name of Wicks.

GEORGE WALTON . I am in the employment of Carter, Paterson's, carriers, and collect from Pimlico—on 6th September I collected a parcel at Lawton's in Wilton Road, Pimlico, addressed to Mr. Wicks, Canonbury—I have my collecting-sheet here—I took it to the Chelsea depot, where it was put into a Goswell Road package—we trace five parcels taken from Lawton's addressed to Wicks within the last five months—sometimes they were given me by the boy, and on one occasion by Mr. Lawton—I am looking at a sheet now which is kept by the firm.

MR. MOODY. I am in the employ of Carter, Paterson's, and deliver from Goswell Road—I delivered parcels from there on 11th June and on 6th September, when nobody was there, and I took it back and had it transferred to the morning sheet, and then delivered it to the housekeeper.

THEODORE BALLCOTT . I am in the counting-house at Pawson and Co.'s—I have knowledge of the entries in the books and the sales that are made—none of this stock was sold to Lawton of Pimlico, not this Lawton.

LESLIE HARCOURT SMITH (Re-examined). The total amount of silk missing from Pawson's from June to September is 1,388 yards—there was some missing before June, but we did not go into that.

MR. HANCOCK. I am in the counting-house at Pawson's, and keep the stock-book—the deficiency from Christmas, 1885, to June, 1886, is 1,800 yards—I cannot tell how that arose.

1044. WILLIAM FROST (19), JOHN MADDIGAN (18), and GEORGE CARMAN (18) , Robbery with violence on Walter Waller, and stealing a watch-chain and 16s., his property.

MESSRS. WILKINSONandHADDONProsecuted; MR. PURCELLdefended

Carman, andMR. MUIRdefended Maddigan.

WALTER WALLER . I live at 1, St. Andrew's Street, Shaftesbury Avenue, and am a tailor—in the early morning of 9th September, about half-past 12, I was at the top of St. Andrew's Street, when about 20 young men, two of whom I can swear positively were Frost and Carman, surrounded me like a swarm of bees—Frost and two or three others pinned my arms from behind, and Carman took my watch out of my pocket—three or

four of them made a snatch at it—I could not say I saw Maddigan there—I found that 6s. 6d., a silver knife, a split ring with a whistle, two watch-keys, and a work-box key were gone from my trousers pockets—I was going on home when I was pinned again—I saw Carman that time again, but I cannot say I saw Frost till we got to the, station—they tore open my coat, and pulled my watch and chain out of my pocket—I caught hold of the watch, the chain broke and left the watch in my hand—the men had run away with the chain, but Carman came back and snatched the watch out of my hand—while I was making a complaint at the police-station the three prisoners were all brought in—Frost said, "You had better mind what you are saying, or I will have you committed for perjury"—I said, "It is no use your trying to intimidate me, you are the man that caught hold of my arm."

Cross-examined by Frost. I identified you directly I came in—I was very much in liquor—one of the other witnesses told me you were the men, I did not ask whether you were—I might have accused you of coming back and snatching my watch and chain—I said at at the police-court that I thought Maddigan was one who rifled my pockets, but I have since been thinking it over to know whether I could really identify him—I could not say whether you went into a public-house because I think you must have run down Neal Street—I don't think I said before that you to money out of my pockets as well; you might have been the man.

Cross-examined byMR. PUDRCELL. I was very drunk, I don't show it very much—I have had a doubt about Maddigan from the first—I am quite positive Carman came back and snatched the watch out of my hand—I knew him previously—I don't know that I ever saw the other two before—I might have told the Magistrate Frost came back and snatched my watch and chain—I was not perfectly sober when I went before the Magistrate next morning—I made a mistake about all three prisoners being brought in while I was lodging my complaint, only Maddigan and Frost were—I came out of the station with constable Nicholls and went with him to Russell Street, Covent Garden, when I saw Carman with some others—the constable caught hold of him and said "Is this one?" and I said "That is the one that snatched my watch"—a woman had first said "This is one of them," and with her assistance I was able to recognise Carman—without her assistance I could not have recognised anybody, that is the long and short of it.

ALFRED NICHOLLS (Policeman E 426). On 9th September, about 12.40 a.m., I was at the corner of Neal and Queen Street with another constable, and saw five or six men run down Neal Street from the direction of St. Andrew's Street and towards Castle Street, among whom I noticed the three prisoners—Neal Street and St. Andrew's Street meet at a corner where there is a public-house—about a minute afterwards the woman Bromley came down from the direction of St. Andrew's Street and made a communication to me—I afterwards went up Queen Street into Seven Dials and saw Frost coming from the direction of St. Martin's Lane—on seeing me he made as if he would go off in the direction of Little Earl Street—I said "What is your hurry?"—he said he was going home—I said "You are very much out of breath, what have you been running for?"—he said "I have been walking quick"—I said "Where have you come from?"—he said "From over the water"—I

said "How could that be when I saw you run down Neal Street a short time ago?"—he said "Oh, if you see me that is all right"—I told him I should take him to Bow Street Station on suspicion of being concerned with other men in a robbery—he said "I have done nothing"—on entering the charge-room at the station I saw Waller giving information to the inspector—on turning round, seeing Frost, he said "That is the man that pinned my arms while the others held me"—the inspector asked me what I had brought the man in for—I told him that I had heard there had been a robbery committed in Great St. Andrew's Street—he was then placed in the dock and charged—after a little while I went with the prosecutor and the woman Dunmouth to Russell Street, where three men were standing in front of the public-house that opens at 2 a.m.—Dunmouth said "There is the other three"—I managed to get Carman, the other two escaped—Carman said nothing when charged—Waller had been drinking, but he knew perfectly well what he was doing—Dunmouth was sober—I found on Frost this knife and these two keys, and on Carman 2s. 4d.—Waller did not identify them.

ALFRED BOXHALL (Policeman E 256). I was in Seven Dials with the last witness, when we saw several youths running past, and they then dispersed and went in different directions—I recognised Maddigan, and Nicholls pointed out Frost to me—in a few minutes a woman came and made a communication to me, and in consequence I went up Neal Street and through Shaftesbury Avenue into Great White Lion Street, where I saw Maddigan coming from the Dials running—I knew here he lived in Great White Lion Street, and I caught him before he entered his door—at the station Waller said "That is the man that rifled my pockets"—he made no answer.

ELLEN DUNMOUTH . I live at 29, Wesley Street, Seymour Street, and am a prostitute—on 9th September I was at the corner of Neal Street with Waller; five or six men came by, and Carman took Waller by the hand and called him by his name—they stood talking to him, and then walked away from him; I did not see them do anything to him—after they went away Waller said to me "Nelly, they have taken my watch and chain from me and a half-sovereign"—we were half an hour before we could see a policeman; they asked me to go to the station, which I did—I told the inspector that all Waller changed in my company was a two-shilling piece—I had been drinking with him at the Cranbourne, and from there we went to Sheen's and had another glass—I say nothing about the other two prisoners.

Cross-examined by Frost. I saw nothing taken from Waller.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I knew him long before that night—I had been with him then about an hour and a half—I saw no robbery.

By theJURY. I was with Waller the whole time, and did not see him robbed—I never saw the prisoners before.

Re-examined. The men surrounded him—I was by the lamp-post about two yards off—I could see Waller when he was surrounded, and I must have seen it if the prisoners had caught hold of him.

NOT GUILTY .

OLD COURT.—Saturday, October 30th, 1886.

Before Mr. Justice Smith.

Reference Number: t18861025-1045

1045. RICHARD FOOTER (35) was again indicted (See page 610) for feloniously demanding money with menaces from Elizabeth Mulliss, with intent to steal. Second Count for robbery with violence.

ELIZABETH MULISS . I am in service as cook at 47, Wimpole Street—on 20th July I went to the Exhibition in the evening with Charlotte Barnes, a fellow-servant—we spent the evening there, and we left the Exhibition together—after that I was spoken to by a young man; I entered into conversation with him, and he walked with me—we went to 205, Brompton Road, my sister's—Barnes was with us then; I left her there, and walked on in the direction of home with the young man—my way home took me across the park; we went in at the Albert Gate—it was about 10 o'clock when we left the Exhibition, and it was about half-past 10, or not quite so much, when we entered the park—we sat down on one of the seats there for five or ten minutes, and as we got up to go the prisoner came up from behind the tree where we were sitting—he said to the young man, "I accuse you of disarranging that young lady's clothes"—he denied it—the prisoner said, "Do you know what I am?"—I do not know whether the young man said yes or no—the prisoner said, "I am a detective in private clothes, and I shall take you to the police-station"—he then blew a whistle which was fastened to his coat into the buttonhole by a chain which hung down—no assistance came—after a time he said, "If I don't take the two I shall take one"—he asked me if I knew my way home; I said "Yes"—he told me to get away quick, and asked me if I had anything to say to the young man before I left—the young man shook hands with me and said "Good night"—he returned with the prisoner, and I walked away to go home—I had never seen the young man before that night, and have never seen him since—I walked towards the Marble Arch—after I had gone on for about five minutes the prisoner came up and walked by my side—he said, "I have put your young man into the police's hands, and now I am going to take you"—I turned to go back with him—he then said, "What money have you got about you?"—I said, "Not much"—we walked on a little distance, and he asked me again how much money I had—I then took out my purse and gave him 7s., which was all I had—he afterwards said, "I shall not take you to the station now, I shall detain you in the park for 20 minutes"—I gave him the money because I was so frightened of him; he demanded the money twice, and I did not know what to do—we walked on a little without any conversation, and then he took me farther into the park, under a clump of trees, and threw himself down and asked me to sit down; I refused, and I was crying—he said if I did not sit down he should put me down, and the more fuss I made the more serious it would be for me—he then put me down and insulted me, he had connection with me—I was still crying, and I screamed—he got up and asked me to go that way with him, and I walked a little way with him—he then said, "I shall not go any farther with you, but will you go over to the Bayswater Road, to the main gate? I have got the keys, and will let you out"—I went to the gate, but he did not come; I then went to the Marble Arch—there were two policemen there; I told them all that had happened, and I went with them to the police-station in Hyde Park—I made a statement there, and a policeman then took me home—as I went from the Marble Arch with the policeman

I pointed out to him the clump of trees where this happened—when I got home I saw Charlotte Barnes, she was sitting up for me—I believe it was from half-past 1 to 2 when I got home—I told her all about it—I did not tell my mistress—on 3rd September a detective came, and next morning I went to the Marlborough Street Station—I was taken into a room there to wait till they were ready, and then I was asked to go into a back yard to identify the prisoner—I saw 11 or 12 men there, and I identified the prisoner as soon as I saw him—he said that I had made a mistake, but I had not—I did not hear what else he said.

Cross-examined. When I sat down on the chairs with the young man I had no idea that anybody was so near—we had been there about five or ten minutes when the prisoner appeared—when we first went to sit down there were several couples about—the prisoner was not there when we first sat down—there was no light there; it was rather dark—the nearest lamp would be in the Bayswater Road or the Marble Arch—it was a fine night—after the prisoner rejoined me we did not pass any people, I think he was with me about half an hour—I gave a description of him at the station—I said he was a tall man, I forget what height I said exactly, I think I said between five and six feet, dressed in dark trousers, grey coat, and felt hat, and a whistle attached to his coat by a chain—I took particular notice of his clothes and of himself too—he had a short beard and dark moustache and whiskers—I did not see anybody while he was with me—I screamed loudly—the whistle was not blown very loudly—the inspector at the station asked me if I would be examined by a surgeon; I refused—I had been in my situation just over a year and eight months—my usual time for being in at night was 10 or half-past—it was between 10 and half-past when I entered the park—my master and mistress were not at home at this time and I was having my holiday; this was the last day of my holiday—I had been in the country, and we had to be home that day to be ready for master and mistress on the following Wednesday—it was Barnes's holiday as well; she was going home at the same time—when I was taken to see the men in the station yard the prisoner was the tallest man there—I did not notice that there was one other tall man, and that all the rest were of small stature—I did not notice how the other men were dressed—I don't know what class of men they were, or whether they were labourers—the prisoner was not dressed the same as he was that night—I looked at all the men—I can't remember whether one was tall and dressed in black—I identified the prisoner at once by his features, and I went and touched him—I did not identify him by his dark short beard, I identified him because he was the man; I had no doubt whatever—I heard him speak at the police-court.

Re-examined. This is the description I gave of the man at the station on the night of 20th July: "Age, 30; height, 5 foot 9; dark short beard and moustache; dress, short grey coat, dark trousers, black hard felt hat; wearing a chain with whistle attached."

SIDNEY HANSFORD (Policeman A 121). On 20th July I was on duty at the Marble Arch—about midnight the prosecutrix came to me crying and very much excited; she made a complaint to me with reference to improper conduct on the part of a man—from what she said I went with her towards Hyde Park Police-station—as we went she pointed put a spot to me—at the station she made a statement and gave a description of the

man who had assaulted her—that description was taken down at the time by Inspector Dauncey—I then accompanied her home.

Cross-examined. The spot she pointed out was by a clump of trees, about 300 yards from a lamp; it was a clear night.

ALBERT DAUNCEY (Police Inspector A). I was at the Hyde Park station on the morning of 21st July, about 12.30, when Mulliss came in with Hansford—she made a complaint about a man and gave me the particulars, which I took down at the time in this book—she seemed to be in perfect order; her clothes were not the slightest disarranged; her manner was quiet, but she was crying.

CHARLOTTE BARNES . I am in service at 47, Wimpole Street—I went to the Exhibition on the night of 20th July with Elizabeth Mulliss—I left her about ten at her sister's place—I did not see her again till she came in the morning with the constable—she then made a statement to me of what had happened to her.

EDWARD DREW (Detective C). On 3rd September the prisoner was in custody—on that day I had a communication with the prosecutrix, in consequence of which she came to Marlborough Street Police-court—the prisoner was placed in the yard with 11 others; I told him he could place himself where he chose amongst them—after he had done so the prosecutrix was sent for; she immediately pointed to the prisoner and said, "That is the man"—the prisoner said, "I don't know anything about it, I don't know Hyde Park"—on 27th August the prisoner had given his name and address as "Richard William Footer, 72, Sidney Street, Commercial Road East"—I heard him say to Howick that he lived in Bird and Bush Road—I searched him and found on him this book containing a number of names and addresses.

Cross-examined. All the men the prisoner was placed among were tall men; I don't suppose any were taller than the prisoner, but there were some as tall; I should think six or seven were quite as tall—I had selected them myself, and took special pains to have tall men; some were labourers and others men attending sale rooms—they had not all the appearance of labourers except the prisoner and one other—the prosecutrix touched the prisoner when she pointed him out—she might have heard what he said, but as soon as she touched him she walked away, and the men were all separating.

GEORGE HOWICK (Policeman C 311). On the night of 27th August I took the prisoner to the Vine Street Police-station—he there gave the name of "Richard William Fuller, 242, Bird and Bush Road, Old Kent Road"—he said he was a detective of Scotland Yard; that was before I took him into custody.

Cross-examined. I believe he gave his correct address next morning.

THOMAS ROOTS (Police Inspector). I have been for many years at Scotland Yard, and am familiar with the persons employed there as detectives; the prisoner has no connection with Scotland Yard.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I say, your worship, that I am innocent. I never saw the woman Mulliss in my life until she said it was me in the yard, neither did I commit the offence and am not the man. I never had a jacket in my life similar to what she describes, and I never had a pair of trousers like what she says, neither had I a whistle. I wish to call a number of witnesses and say I am not guilty."

gave his correct address at Mile End I went there and saw Mrs. Brown, his landlady—I did not ask her what clothes the prisoner had, that question was not raised at that time; it was at the next examination, when he was identified by Mulliss—I have not since then inquired of Mrs. Brown what clothing he had, as I knew she was to be called as a witness for the defence.

ALFRED HENRY WILIAMS . I am a clerk in employment at 72, St. Paul's Churchyard—on a Saturday evening about the middle of July last, about half-past eight, I was in Hyde Park with a young lady—whilst we were sitting on a seat I heard a whistle blown; I half turned round to see what it was and saw the prisoner get over the railings—he came up and spoke to me; he said he was a detective—he was dressed in a light coat and vest, a darker pair of trousers, and a hard felt hat—he put something into his pocket; I think it must have been the whistle—he remained with me ten minutes I should say—we walked away together 20 or 30 yards on the grass; the young lady was with me—he told us to separate, and he walked along with me for about 50 yards in the direction of the Marble Arch—I saw him again that evening on the path by the Bayswater Road, inside the park; I was about five minutes with him there—I have no doubt whatever that he is the man.

Cross-examined. The young lady was with me all the time except the last five minutes—she had the same opportunity of seeing him—I know that she was called on to identify him and that she picked out another man; he was very similar to the prisoner.

Cross-examined. It was on 1st October that I next saw the prisoner—he was then with about eight or nine others in the police-court yard—he was slightly altered, but I immediately identified him—he was not quite so stout as when I first saw him; that was the only difference, except that the clothes were not the same.

WILLIAM HILL (Policeman A 305). I know the prisoner by sight—I have seen him in Hyde Park; my attention has been drawn to him—I can't give any date—I first saw him some time in last November, and I may have seen him 20 times up to the last week in August—he was frequently there in the evening time; he was pointed out to me in a part called the Lovers' Walk, facing Stanhope Gate—I have spoken to him—the first time my attention was called to him he was dressed in a light suit—sometimes he was dressed as he was at the police-court—the time I spoke to him he was behind the trees in the Lovers' Walk watching people sitting on the seats—I asked what he was doing there, and told him he had better leave the park, and he walked out at Stanhope Gate, and I followed him.

Cross-examined. I have not seen him in a dark pair of trousers.

EDWARD BURDON (Detective A). I have been on special duty in Hyde Park—I was so employed in August this year—on 11th August, about 10.30 at night, I was there in plain clothes with Detective Walsh, and saw the prisoner in a part of the park known as the Paddock at the back of the police-station—I spoke to him—he said he was a private detective, and was there for business best known to himself—he gave the name of Frederick Johnson, 122, Bird and Bush Road, Old Kent Road—he complained of a uniform man who he said he was watching, and we were watching him at the time—I said if he had any complaint to make of us he

had better go to the station, and he accompanied us there, and the complaint he made was taken down in writing.

Cross-examined. He was dressed the same as now, or similar—he had on light striped trousers, a Melton coat and vest, and a black felt hat.

JAMES WALSH (Detective A). I was with Burdon in Hyde Park on the night of 11th August, and saw the prisoner there; Burdon spoke to him—he said he was a private detective—he gave his name and address at the station—I went to Bird and Bush Road next day, there was no such number as 122, nor any Frederick Johnson.

GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. Five years' on each indictment, the second term to commence at the expiration of the first.

WALTER MASKELL . I am a solicitor at 7, Great James Street, Bedford Row—I was acting on behalf of Mr. Michael Pope, the holder of this promissory note against Harriet Layte, Charles Hopkins, and Charles Hunt. (The note was dated 20th January, 1885, for 65l. at six month, signed by Harriet Layte in favour of Charles Hopkins, accepted, payable at 70, Gray's Inn Road by Harriet Layte, and endorsed by Charles Hopkins and Charles Hunt.) Mr. Pope said he was the holder of this bill, which had not been met at maturity—I only got summary judgment under order 14 against Hopkins—Layte defended the actions on several grounds, and I determined to abandon the action against her—the defendant swore this affidavit at my office on 10th August. (In this the prisoner swore that he did not endorse the promissory note.) I objected to that as not sufficient, and on 14th August he swore this second affidavit at my office. (In this he swore that he did not endorse the note, nor did he authorise any one to endorse it in his name.) These are the prisoner's signatures to the affidavits—he was allowed by the Judge to defend the action—on the 28th and 29th June last the action came on to be heard before Mr. Justice Hawkins—I called Mr. Netherclift, the expert, to prove by comparison the similarity of the handwriting of the various documents, and Mr. Hopkins and his wife and daughter were called to prove they saw the prisoner sign that note—afterwards the prisoner was sworn, examined, and cross-examined as a witness on his own behalf; I was in Court the whole time—I heard the prisoner swear he did not sign the "Charles Hunt, 8, Roderick Road, N.W."—the Judge asked him to write his name and address, and he did so on this piece of paper—he referred to his pocket-book for something, and it was noticed that his name and address were written in that—the Jury compared the hand-writing; they returned a verdict for the full amount for the plaintiff, and

the Judge impounded the documents—I signed judgment—his goods were sold privately for 20l. odd—I received 7l. 13s. 4d.—the action lasted two days, and was very expensive—I was directed by the Judge to communicate with the Public Prosecutor—the defendant was represented by a Queen's Counsel and a junior.

Cross-examined. The action was in the list for a day or two before it was reached—Mr. Lawrence, Q.C., was retained for Hunt, and, I believe, at the last moment he handed his brief to Mr. Bosanquet—I had retained Mr. Kemp, and he returned the brief at the last moment, and I had to hand it over to Mr. Channel—the bill is rather a strange document—I believe one of the grounds given to Mrs. Layte for leave to defend the bill was on account of its informality—I knew she could set up a defence which was not available for Hunt, so I did not proceed against her—it is not usual for an endorser to put his address on a bill unless his address is not known—I have seen it done before, the address is generally known—it would be usual for a person endorsing the bill after Hunt to put his name below, but there was plenty of room here, so that I am not surprised Hopkins has put it above—I should not have allowed a document of this informal description to be drawn if I had been present—a ninepenny stamp is necessary for a bill under 75l., and it would not bear any higher amount—it is usual when people are jointly and severally interested in a bill for both to sign—there is only one signature to this—I am usually anxious to have a husband's rather than a wife's signature—I do not know whether Robert Layte can write or not—I heard Mr. Justice Hawkins order all witnesses out of Court on application of Counsel—Mr. Justice Hawkins asked Miss Hopkins if she bad been out of Court when her father was giving evidence, and she said no; she and Mrs. Hopkins had remained in Court; she said they did not hear the Judge's order—a short-hand writer was instructed in the middle of the case; no note was taken of Hopkins's evidence—it is the rule for Counsel to cross-examine on the evidence they are going to adduce themselves, so that till Mr. Justice Hawkins had heard Hunt's case it was impossible for him to cross-examine Hopkins upon that case, I presume; but he could cross-examine Hunt upon the evidence of Hopkins—Mr. Justice Hawkins put Hunt through a very searching cross-examination—Hunt was cool and collected in the box, and gave his evidence firmly and decisively—the prisoner was asked whether Hopkins was aware of his private address, and he said no, and then the Judge repeated the question in a rather forcible manner, and he said he had once given Hopkins his private address, 8, Roderick Road, in order that he might send him a theatre ticket, and that it should not be sent to the British Museum—I believe Mrs. Layte said that Hunt had acted purely as a friend for her, and had not had a penny for his trouble, and had no interest in this establishment which she was buying. (MR. POLAND, at Mr. Statham's request, put in the lease of the premises, 97, Gray's Inn Road, an assignment of the premises, and an agreement of 9th February.) Mrs. Layte found the money for the 15s. stamp on this assignment; the date is 21st April, 1885, and the document is dated 31st March—I heard that Hunt was waiting for that 15s. from her for the three weeks—Mr. Pope is a solicitor, and I am his solicitor for all these cases—Mrs. Layte said she was in the room when the figures were filled in, but not when the bill was prepared on 9th February—I understood it was brought

subject to the filling in of dates and amounts—she was liable for the 65l.—I think she said in examination-in-chief that the prisoner did not sign it, but in cross-examination she said he might have signed it, and if he did she did not see him do it—she said she did not remember his signing it; she also said I believe that there was no discussion as to whether he should sign it or not; she never suggested he should sign it—I don't remember her saying that she had paid 30l. in respect of the transaction before Hunt was called on to sign; I dare say she did say so—she said that Hopkins asked Hunt to write out the bill—when the prisoner called on me to swear the affidavits I think he told me it was the first bill he had ever had to deal with, and did not understand them—I warned him to be careful what he was saying, as he might be charged with perjury—he then made the affidavit—that was shortly after the writ was issued under Order 14 in July, six months after the bill was drawn—I did not subsequently offer to pay Mrs. Layte's expenses in respect of the trial, if she could come forward and her evidence concurred with mine, nor that if she swore she saw the prisoner sign it I would drop the action and pay her costs—I called on her to ascertain what evidence she could give—I dropped proceedings against her after the second hearing of the summons for judgment—she paid at first she did not sign it; she had not the bill then—she said her evidence would be to the effect that the prisoner did not sign it—I believe the prisoner was asked by my Counsel whether he filled in the "Rober"—I never attempted to prove that.

Re-examined. I went to ask Mrs. Layte whether she signed it, and whether the prisoner signed it—if Hopkins had deceived Mr. Pope I should have proceeded against Hopkins—Hopkins keeps an eating-house in Gray's Inn Road—Mr. Bosanquet, Q.C., represented the prisoner all through the case, which lasted two days.

JAMES FREDERICK DUGGETT . I am a short-hand writer, of 36, Chancery Lane—I was present in the Court of Queen's Bench on 29th June at the trial of the action Pope against Hunt and others—I took down the whole of the defendant's evidence, and this is the transcript—I was not instructed the first day, but in the course of the trial Mr. Justice Hawkins instructed a short-hand writer to take it. (Portions of the prisoner's evidence were here read.) The document was sometimes called a bill and sometimes a note, and the assignment was sometimes called an assignment and sometimes a lease.

CHARLES HOPKINS . I live at 13, Calthorpe Street, Gray's Inn Road—I am a clerk, canvasser, and collector—No. 97, Gray's Inn Road was my business, a refreshment bar, in which my wife and daughter assisted me—in January, 1885, I was desirous of selling it—Mrs. Layte advertised for a business, I answered it, and got into communication with her—at the latter end of January I first saw the prisoner, and I saw him several times before 9th February, when the purchase was completed—on that day he and Mrs. Layte came to 97, Gray's Inn Road—the prisoner was acting for Mrs. Layte—I had always seen him at the British Museum, where he was employed, with the exception of one interview at Mrs. Layte's—I always saw him about Mrs. Layte's business—on 9th February this agreement was brought written out, with the exception of the figures, which the prisoner filled in—then Mrs. Layte signed "Harriet Layte, for Robert Layte"—I then signed it, and the prisoner feigned—on the same

occasion the prisoner brought this note ready written—I wrote across it "Accepted payable Gray's Inn Road"—I objected to the bill as it was written, but I thought it was right from the position the prisoner led me to believe he occupied—he told me he wag assistant librarian at the Museum—when I had written across it the prisoner said "Now, Mr. Hopkins, where shall I sign, on the front or the back?"—I said "Oh, endorse it on the back, certainly"—I then saw him write the words "Charles Hunt, 8, Roderick Road, N W."—I said "I thought you would give your Museum address"—I did not know his private address before that—he said "Oh, I would rather not have that"—I said "Well let it be as it is"—my wife and daughter were both in the room, and could see him write as well as I could—it was left with me—I did not endorse it till I got the cash for it—when he left it with me there was nothing but his name and address on the back of it—I parted with my business on the faith of the agreement and the promissory note, and afterwards I wanted the money before it became due—it was dated from 21st January for six months—I took it to several places, and eventually to Mr. Pope, who discounted it, and advanced me 58l. on it—I then wrote my name on the back at Mr. Pope's request—the prisoner gave me this receipt for the document: "Received from Charles Hopkins, for Harriet and Robert Layte," when he took the lease away at the latter end of January—afterwards I was sued with the other defendants, and gave evidence before Mr. Justice Hawkins.

Cross-examined. On or about 24th January I entered into an agreement with Mrs. Layte to lease these premises to her—I let her the property at 70l. a year—I was paying 48l. myself, I told her so—I told her the lease ran for seven or eight years; I did not tell her it could be renewed—dilapidations were not mentioned—she paid me 30l. to lease the property—afterwards she introduced me to the prisoner, and then it was suggested that she should purchase it for 150l., which was made up of the 30l. she had already paid—she gave me 20l.; I did not know that was raised on a bill of sale on her furniture—then 30l. was allowed for outstanding debts, and a bill was to be given me for 65l., leaving a margin of 5l. in case of any little account being presented for payment—I said the prisoner could have that 5l. if he succeeded in getting 200l. from the School Board for Mrs. Layte—this was all subsequent to his endorsing the note—the 5l. was for any other bills and little things coming in, and then going into things I found nothing was coming in, and I said to the prisoner, "That is for you if you meet your bill"—there was nothing of that sort in the agreement—the prisoner did not tell me to knock it off the amount if I wanted to give him anything—5l. was not knocked off Mrs. Layte's account, nothing has been paid—nothing was said as to my being paid 5l. afterwards—I did not complain of his having put the interest at 5 per cent, on the bill, I thought it was a funny thing to do, I remarked about it; I had no hand in its getting on the bill—5l. was knocked off the purchase-money to cover the out-standing claims; I did that—nothing was suggested about knocking it off for Mrs. Layte—afterwards, when the prisoner was in communication with the School Board, he told me if he got this money he should come and take up the promissory note—I said the only obstacle in the way of my taking a promissory note was that Mrs. Layte could not write—the Prisoner said, "To obviate that I will be answerable, I will sign"—

I took his in lieu of Mr. Layte's—Mrs. Layte signed, and the prisoner signed the assignment as witness—I borrowed the deed a few days after its execution—there is a resemblance, but not a great deal, between the signature on the deed and that on the assignment; I am certain they are both the prisoner's writing, I saw him write both—I borrowed it because he brought me another document to sign, and I wanted to show them both to and ask my solicitor if I was justified in signing it—I don't know where that document is, I believe Mr. Maskell has it—I refused to sign it; it was empowering me to come in at the end of the lease. (Mr. Maskell stated that he had no recollection of this document, but that if he had it with him he would hand it to the Court.) I believe that the other document was at the High Court; it was handed to Counsel on both sides, I kept it about two hours—the bill had been cashed six or eight weeks before I saw this deed; I discounted the bill in March—I could not get the matter settled, and the prisoner's excuse was that Mrs. Layte had not money enough to pay him, and he would not have anything to do with it till then—I saw three young fellows at the Museum whom the prisoner led me to believe were his clerks—I did not see Mr. Edans—the prisoner asked me whether there was a lease, and I said I supposed Mr. Crossfield held the original lease—I produced the only lease we had, it was on parchment; I cannot say if it was the original one—on February 9th the prisoner said he had been to Messrs. Crossfield—I said "I thought you simply wanted to peruse this lease"—the prisoner had that lease in his possession; I handed it to him before February 9th—he went to Messrs. Crossfield's to get what information he could—he gave me an acknowledgment for this lease—I kept it in my desk, not locked up—he had the lease for two or three months; I never saw it from the time I entrusted it to him till he brought it to me complete—he had the lease at the latter end of January—this receipt was not dated January 9th in mistake for February 9th—the receipt was signed in January; I could not say when—I did not tell Mrs. Layte for certain how my business had declined—I gave Mr. Pope 5l. for my lease and sold it to her after the business had declined for 150l. some months after—we laid out 200l. on the premises after we paid the 5l.; that was spent to make it in a proper state of repair, and I had to spend more afterwards—I told Mrs. Layte they would do very well, and that she would be able to pay me out of the profits—I have been in several other establishments—I have had a permanent address—if any money is owing to Mrs. Saunders for her rent it is from my wife—no execution has been put in or threatened by Turner, the furniture people of Tabernacle Walk—we have paid them pretty nearly 100—my wife pays what is required of her—I don't know if anything is owing to Denman a dairyman; they supplied us this morning; my wife knows—I have earned my living for the last five years as collector, canvasser, clerk, not as commission agent—I have had no commission on betting transactions—the potman at the Bacon Arms serves us; if he says I am living as a betting tout it is not true—I canvass for general house agents and public-house brokers—I call at Marks's, of Great Russell Street, every day—I never represented myself to be their public-house broker—I do not owe money all round the neighbourhood, nor does my wife—we pay Turner by monthly instalments—I did not order my wife and daughter out of the room when the bill was signed; they were there the whole time.

MINNIE HOPKINS . I am the last witness's daughter—I am quite sure I saw the prisoner sign the back of this promissory note on February 9th, 1885—I was in the parlour at the time, as near to him as I am to you; right up by the table.

Cross-examined. He asked my father where he was to sign, and my father told him on the back. (MR. STATHAMstated that after his cross-examination of Mr. Hopkins, he admitted that Mr. Hopkins did not forge the prisoner's signature on the bill.) The prisoner sat down and did it at once—it took more than 20 minutes—these other documents were signed, and the amounts filled in at the same time—I don't remember the other signatures—after my father told me to mind the shop I came backwards and forwards.

EMMA HOPKINS . I am Mr. Hopkins's wife—I was present with the prisoner, Mrs. Layte, my husband, and daughter at 97, Gray's Inn Road on 9th February, 1885, and saw the prisoner write "Charles Hunt, 8, Roderick Road, N.W." at the back of this bill—I stood at his back.

Cross-examined. He signed the agreement; he wrote sitting down—he did it at once—I should think the whole transaction lasted about an hour—the prisoner went off to Lady Tenterden's—my daughter was in the room all the time.

Re-examined. I manage the business with her, and went to see the transaction.

CHARLES HENRY HILL . I am a clerk at the Westminster Loan Office—the signature "Charles Henry Hunt" to these joint and several promissory notes signed by Robert and Harriet Layte and Charles Henry Hunt is in the prisoner's writing.

Cross-examined. We require a surety on a printed form, and that is how the prisoner came to sign—there was a bill of sale on the principal given to secure us on the first transaction, not on the second—I did not value the furniture, and have no record of its value—the prisoner did not sign the bill of sale—the Laytes signed a bill of sale—the subsequent bill was the same bill continued.

Re-examined. The two promissory notes he signed were afterwards paid.

JOHN INGLIS . I live at 8, Red Lion Square, Holborn, and am an expert in examining handwriting—I have examined the endorsement on this bill, "Charles Hunt, 8, Roderick Road, N.W.," and the signature "Charles H. Hunt" to the agreement, and I am of opinion that they are in the same writing—I have also compared the signature on this assignment, the prisoner's signature in Court at Mr. Justice Hawkins's request, that in the pocket-book, the signature to these two affidavits, and those to the two promissory notes, and this receipt; I have not the smallest doubt they are all the same writing—I have had these photographs taken of some of the documents—I can give reasons for my opinions—this is a case in which there cannot be the slightest doubt; it is a very clear case.

(MR. STATHAMstated that after this evidence he did not dispute the writing.)

Cross-examined. I should say the endorsement to the bill was written without much hesitation, with freedom, and quickly.

FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFT . I have been engaged for many years in comparing handwriting—I was first engaged in this case by Mr. Pope to give evidence at the trial, and I did so—I am of opinion that the

DONATO DENUNZIO . (This witness was tried and convicted in the name of Touissant at this Court in June last, see page 147.) I am a convict, undergoing a sentence of 15 years' penal servitude—I was convicted and sentenced on 1st June last for robbery with violence on Mr. Tabak—I have been four times in penal servitude—the last time was on 16th December, 1884—I know the prisoner Palmer, he was in Dartmoor with me—I knew him for two or three months before I was discharged—I have known Scanland since June, 1885—Jacoby I have known since last December twelve months—as soon as I came out of prison I was introduced to him by my daughter Eleanor—at that time I was living in Bath Street, Farringdon Street—Jacoby was then living with his father as a barber in Long Lane—after that I went to Italy with my daughter, and was away about six months—before I left England nothing was said to me about an engagement between Jacoby and my daughter to be married; she only said Jacoby was her sweetheart; she said nothing about marriage—I had to come back to London in June because she had typhus fever in Italy—I then went to live in Amwell Street—I was introduced to Scanland by his brother-in-law Palmer, at Palmer's house, in Arthur Street, Oxford Street; that was in June, 1885—after leaving Amwell Street I went to Brighton for two weeks to see if I could get employment, I could not, and when I came back I went to live at 115, St. George's Road, Southwark; that would be in July, 1885—while I was there I went to see Jacoby, who then had a barber's shop in the Walworth Road, and had got married—I went to sell him something—I think that was about eight or nine days before Christmas, 1885—before that, on 21st October, 1885, I went to Paris with Palmer and Scanland—Palmer had been to my house previous to that, and Scanland had been once before, and once with his wife the day we went away, and my daughter stopped at Scanland's—we went to Paris on a Tuesday and came back on the Saturday—I paid the expenses of that journey—when I went to Jacoby I gave him two pairs of earrings, two brooches, a gold bracelet, a diamond earring, another gold bracelet with three diamonds, and a diamond ring—I asked him to buy them—he said "All right"—he

gave me a sovereign that night, and told me to come next morning—went, and went with him to the Walworth Road, and he went into a shop, and came back and gave me 8l. and 2l. he lent me, and from that time I used to go every day and visit him—I told him I felt very uneasy, that I wished to have some employment—he said his business had gone very bad—he then said "I have got a friend who has got something to do; I think you can do it if you like; I will let you see him"—I said "What is it?"—he said "He has got an old Jew worth 15,000l. of diamonds; I will get the chloroform"—I said "That will be a very good thing if you can get it"—he said "All right, we will see him"—that was all he said on that occasion—that same evening we took a cab and went to a cafe restaurant, opposite Dyer's Buildings, Holborn—the Weiners carried on business at No. 6—by and by Adolphe Weiner came in to the cafe—we went upstairs into a room by ourselves, and Adolphe said to me "I suppose Mr. Jacoby told you about the business?"—I said "Partly he did"—then Adolphe said "Well, I have an old Jew, a miser; he is worth 15,000l. of diamonds, and he has only a wife and servant, and they are always downstairs; Mr. Tabak is very anxious to do business; he will receive you upstairs in the back room; you tell him that you are recommended by Messrs. Asher, a firm at Paris; he knows those gentlemen, and he will receive you and show you all the goods; when he opens the safe and shows you the things, give him a blow and then take everything, not to forget the bottom drawers of the safe, they contain a lot of foreign coins, and take all the papers, they are bonds—he told me to shut the safe and bring the key away with me—I told him I did not like to give the blow, I could not do that; that Jacoby said he would get the chloroform—he said "Yes; but he must not get the chloroform"—Jacoby said "Yes, yes; I will get it"—Adolphe began to lay down a life of Mr. Tabak; that he was a miser, and he would not spend a penny—he mentioned Mr. Tabak's name, and gave his direction on a piece of paper to Jacoby: "5, Belgrave Street, Euston Road"—Jacoby kept the paper, and he showed it to me some time after—Adolphe and Jacoby wanted me to go with the chloroform, and said Wednesday would be the best day to go—I said to Adolphe once or twice "Why not go yourself?"—he said "I would, but he knows me"—it was arranged that I was to wait till Jacoby brought me the chloroform, and that when I went Jacoby was to stop at the Great Northern Station, opposite Belgrave Street, with a cab—my first interview with Adolphe Weiner was two or three days before Christmas—after that I met him scores of times, many times, in January, February, and March—I used to go to Jacoby's every day—he told his shopmen and servant that I was a music-mast—after I left Walworth Road and went to Edgware Road I was introduced to Leon Weiner, that was the morning after the great row in Trafalgar Square—in January I sold two pairs of earrings to Adolphe—when we met we always used to speak about Mr. Tabak—Adolphe also mentioned four other names; one was Mr. Ayres, of 16, Northampton Square, a foreigner—he wanted me to get hold of him in the night time and knock him down, and get his bag that he used to carry diamonds about in; he described him to me, and both the brothers came to show me the place, but Adolphe spoke to me in the first instance—I went twice to Northampton Square, but did not see the man—about Christmas-time

or early in January I sent my daughter to Mr. Tabak's; she came back and told me she had spoken to him—the chloroform was brought to me by Jacoby towards the end of January—it was about a quarter of a pint in a round bottle; there was a label on it, I did not read it, it was red; he wetted it and took it off, and I put on another label from a scent-bottle—my daughter was present when he brought it, and saw the bottle—I put it behind the glass on the mantelpiece—this was at my place in St. George's Road—he made a sign to me that my daughter should not see the bottle, but she did—that evening, about 7 or 8 o'clock, Jacoby took me to the Strand and called Adolphe out of Gatti's Restaurant, and we went to a cafe near the Pavilion in Windmill Street—Adolphe said he was very glad we had got the chloroform, and he said, "I will begin to look from Wednesday in the newspaper, and see if the thing has come off"—he then went home, and I and Jacoby went to our place—on 9th February I was introduced to Leon by Adolphe outside the cafe in Holborn where we had been before—we shook hands, and Adolphe said, "You can speak to him, he is my brother"—we went upstairs in the same room as before and had lunch—after lunch Leon asked Adolphe what my name was; he said he did not know—he said, "Do you transact such business as this without knowing the man's name?"—he aid, "Jacoby introduced him"—they then asked me how I was getting on—I said, "I am afraid to go away, I don't know what to do"—Adolphe said, "Don't throw yourself away, I will give you some money," and he gave me 5s.—his brother then said, "Give him 10s.," and Adolphe gave me 10s.—the three of us then went out, and stopped at the corner of Gray's Inn Road, and Leon then asked Adolphe if he would show me the place of Mr. Harris in Hatton Garden—we went to the station at the bottom of Gray's Inn Road and took two return tickets to Westbourne Bridge, or something of that; it was five stations from there—after that he showed me the house where Mr. Harris lived—Adolphe Weiner was not with us then, we had left him at the corner of Gray's Inn Road—this was not the first time I had had money from Adolphe, I had had a lot of money from him before—I sold him things, and after that I could Dot do anything, and he gave me 14l., and gave 15s. to Jacoby—he gave me money for four or five weeks, sometimes a sovereign or two sovereigns or 10s.—in February there was a kitten at my landlady's house, and I tried the chloroform on it alone—that was before I went to Paris and before the introduction to Leon—I tried it on the kitten on the second morning after I had the chloroform—it sneezed a bit, but it was not successful, and I told Jacoby and Adolphe the chloroform was no good, I tried it on the kitten and it was not successful—Adolphe said, "Oh, a cat has nine lives"—two or three days afterwards Adolphe came, and we tried it on the kitten again—I did not know his brother then—it was the very same, but he said, "The stuff is good, but it doesn't affect cats"—two or three days after that I saw Adolphe and Leon in the Edgware Road—Jacoby had then removed from Walworth Road to No. 16, Edgware Road, where he carried on the business of a barber on the first floor, but it was not open then—in a restaurant there Adolphe said, "I want money, you want money, and he wants money, and that is the only place you can get it," meaning Tabak's—after these experiments on the kitten I thought no more about the chloroform, as I thought it was no good, and I said to them all, "I don't believe it is

any good, it has no effect"—on 15th February I paid another visit to Paris with Adolphe Weiner—before I got the chloroform I said the only tiling I could do with the chloroform was to go into a shop and mace anything; that is, go into a shop as a gentleman, and under pretence of buying, and take something—he said, "If you won't do this, get some money, and we will go together over the Continent as far as Brussels"—I Raid, "Where can I get the money? I am afraid to go away"—I had maced these earrings—we then went together to Richmond for the purpose of robbing a shop; he pointed it out to me but I didn't effect a robbery—he then said, "We will go together to Paris; I will pay the expenses," and together we went—the appointment was that Adolphe was to meet me on Sunday at Charing Cross; my daughter went to see me off, but he never came there, and on the next morning he came to my place and said, "Where have you been?"—I said, "Charing Cross"—he said, "I was waiting for you at Victoria"—we then went on Monday, the 15th, from Charing Cross and arrived in Paris on the morning of Tuesday, the 16th, and we stayed at the same hotel as before, an English hotel outside the station—we remained in Paris just a week, and were in London on Sunday morning—I went round to shops while I was in Paris to see if I could get anything, and Adolphe was waiting outside for me—amongst other things I stole this pair of diamond earrings and brought them to London, but I said nothing to Adolphe about them—in every shop I went I used to ask for a card or bill, because Adolphe wanted them to show to Mr. Tabak, and out of those he chose this bill of Linsella's and a small card—I filled in the amount, in the first instance it was for 2,000 francs—that bill was made out in this way, I went and selected those things that are there and asked him to make out a bill for them, which amounted to 2,000 odd francs, and said I would send for them; I then left the things behind and brought the bill away and gave it to Adolphe as I did with others, and when we returned on the 21st he brought that bill back with him, and I brought back the diamond earrings which I think was the best—Adolphe paid the expenses of that visit and I gave him an umbrella costing 60 francs and a silver snuff box—when there I bought a bracelet costing 50 francs and the lady signed it And put that stamp on, which I gave to Adolphe, and when we got back he took the stamp off that bill and put it on the Linsella bill—I afterwards gave the earrings to my daughter to pledge—I had been convicted on the last occasion in the name of Defour, and I sent her to pledge them in that name—the stamp was put upon that bill four or five days after we came back from Paris, after the clothes were ordered from Newman's—when I gave the bill to Adolphe there was no stamp on it, but when he brought it to me it was like that—I was not present when it was done in his place—I have had it in my possession ever since—I altered the amount of the bill after I got the clothes made—when he brought me the bill he said, "Here is the bill and here is the card, if you don't go quick to Mr. Tabak's, in a week or two he will go to Holland"—once as we were at the Palais Royal in Paris Adolphe said, "You are very well to put that coat on, but the cloth is not the real gentleman cloth," and he lent me his diamond ring and his diamond stud, which he fixed on my neckcloth that I might look better, so when he said that about going to Mr. Tabak's in a week or two I said, "You passed the remark in Paris that my clothes were not the real gentleman's; you don't think he

will think I am a diamond merchant"—he then told me to get a suit of clothes made, and gave me Newman's address, No. 69 in the Strand and said he would be reference for me, and gave me 2l. to give to Mr. Newman, which I gave him on the second occasion when he measured me—I went there and Newman asked me what I wanted—I said, "A full suit with overcoat"—he then asked me my name and address, and I gave him a name—after that I went and saw Adolphe Weiner and went a second time on a Tuesday to Newman's and was measured, and I then gave him the 2l. as deposit—the total cost of suit and overcoat was to be 8l. or 9l.—they were finished and sent to my place at St. George's Road on a Saturday—I did not pay any more for them except the 2l. and 6d. for the boy, and a glass to Mr. Newman—I have been twice to him since then—about two or three weeks after this I was in company with Palmer and Scanland, and saw Mr. Newman at the corner of Dyer's Buildings waiting for Adolphe Weiner, and I spoke to him—I saw Palmer two or three days after the Trafalgar Square row, about 12th February: I had not seen him since the journey to Paris—he gave me 1l. with reference to that journey, and I had had 2l. before—he then spoke very nicely, and I told him about this; I said there was a gentleman giving directions about Mr. Tabak, but I didn't say the name—I told him I had got the chloroform to go and get these diamonds, and the man always asked me to go and I said I could not—he said, "Perhaps I will see this man, but don't tell him where I live"—I had said to Weiner I knew two brothers that were very crafty, and he always wanted me to introduce him—I saw Palmer two or three days after the suit of clothes were delivered, and we went up in Hyde Park—from there we went to my place and he took a little dinner with me, and the two Weiners came in and they said, "How does the suit fit?"—I was wearing the suit from Newman's at that time—I said, "You are suspicious of my daughter"—this was the first time Palmer had met the two Weiners, and after my daughter had gone out to fetch something to drink, I said "This is the man I was speaking about, one of the two brothers"—they shook hands and were very pleased to meet, and after dinner we Went out and went down the Westminster Road to the back of Charing Cross—I had the three diamonds, and I gave them to Palmer and told him to pretend they were his own, as I owed several pounds to Weiner—he said "How much shall I ask?"—I said "7l."—they were worth I dare say 11l. or 12l.—I heard Weiner offer 3l.—he was talking with him over the road and I was talking with his brother—the offer was not enough, and he brought them back—next morning I brought the jewels to Adolphe Weiner, and he gave me 3l.—I saw Palmer every day after that—I remember a rabbit being brought to my house in St. George's Road; I don't know who brought it—I was in the Havelock public-house, in the Gray's Inn Road, with the two Weiners, about half-past 11—we had lunch there together—after I had sold these diamonds Adolphe was very anxious to be introduced to Palmer, and always asked "Why don't you see this man, where does he live?"—I said "I don't know, I will see," and it was arranged that Leon Weiner was to be at my place at 5 o'clock, and bring the rabbit—on the same day Adolphe said he had heard from a doctor that they had experiments of chloroform on a rabbit, and he intended to do that—he wanted to see Palmer again, and I said "Well, I am going towards there, I will see if

he is at home"—he said "I will come with you"—I took him to a public-house in College Street—that is not where he lived, but Palmer had told me not to tell him where he lived; he used to live in the Euston Road—I left Adolphe and, said I was going to see if he was at home—I came back and then we went to my place, and presently his brother Leon came in with a rabbit; it was a big one, with brown and white patches, and was in a basket with two handles—my daughter and Margaret Ross were there at the time—we talked for an hour or two till his brother came in, and then the two girls went out—I and Leon then tried the chloroform to the rabbit, and it was prostrated on the table for six or seven minutes, like as if it was dead—Adolphe then said "Open the window, the smell is fearful," and he opened the door and I the window, and they were not closed until my daughter and the other girl came in—before he went out he told me the stuff was all right, the thing was dead, but when I got hold of the thing it shook, and I saw it was not dead'—he said the stuff was all right, I could make up my mind to go; they told me this stuff must be put on the handkerchief in a good dose and put on Mr. Tabak's nose—I said I could not do it, suppose he were to shout, I should be caught in a trap—he said there was no fear of that, "You are always making excuses"—after this Adolphe went away rather cross because I would not go—Leon told Adolphe two or three different times "Don't force the man," and he said to me "Don't you go if you think you will get into trouble," and before I went away he gave me half a sovereign—Adolphe said "You can have a good dinner to-morrow;" but I wouldn't take the rabbit, I gave it to Margaret Boss with the bag; I had given it to Mrs. Reid at first—Adolphe went away by himself, and I and the two girls went out with Leon to the obelisk, and he there took a bus, and I and my daughter went indoors—this (produced) is the same sort of rabbit's skin, and basket—on Saturday I saw both the Weiners, but I don't remember anybody else—on Sunday I saw Palmer—he came to my place with his wife and sister-in-law; they were the only persons I saw on that day—I remember Mrs. Reid receiving a message for me—on that day I made an appointment to meet Palmer on the Monday at his place, 121, Whitfield Street—I had seen him previously to that day; he wanted me to read something in French and I could not; I was ill in bed—Palmer said he had a win in a lottery, and showed me six bonds for 10l. each—I don't know where he got them—he was with another man, who was outside—when I looked at these prizes Adolphe Weiner wanted to buy them; they were both there—we then went out into Wardour Street to change the bonds, not the Weiners, only Palmer and I, but we had some drink together, and, spoke about this affair of Tabak's—the Weiners said it was to be done, and Palmer said he did not think he would be able to do it with the chloroform—he thought the same as me, that it was not merely to pass it over the nose and send him to sleep, but it was to be held there—on Monday morning I went by appointment to 121, Whitfield Street and met Palmer and Scanland—Palmer gave me a ticket to take to Adolphe, for a ring pledged for 20l. by my daughter—this (produced) is the ticket—Palmer said he wanted the money, and I gave him the ticket back—on the morning of 22nd March I, Palmer, and Scanland went to a public-house in Holborn; I don't know the name

of it—that was the day I saw Mr. Newman—I saw Adolphe that day at the Havelock, and we went to the public-house where Palmer was waiting for me, and he gave the ticket to Adolphe—Scanland came in—Adolphe said to me "We don't want to stop here, because there are a lot of merchants who may know us"—it was arranged that Scanland, Palmer, and I were to go to Mr. Tabak on Wednesday—Adolphe spoke about Mr. Eider, and if I had a chance to get a few diamonds there I should not have gone to Mr. Tabak's—Mr. Eider is a diamond merchant, at 29, Viaduct—Adolphe said if I went to Mr. Eider's at 12 or 1 o'clock I should see the uncle or the nephew by himself, and I could do the same as at Mr. Harris's and Mr. Ayre's and Mr. Tabak's—they were all to be done the same, but I went there with the idea to get a few diamonds—I saw the nephew, and gave him a card, and I went again next day and found my card on the floor, and put it in my pocket—I met Adolphe again at the corner of Hatton Garden, and told him I had been to Mr. Eider's—he said, "What makes you go to Mr. Eider's if you have to go to Mr. Tabak's on Wednesday; did he show you the book with diamonds?"—I said "Yes"—he said, "Well, when you go to Mr. Tabak he will show you ten times more than that"—before that they had all of them spoken many times about the share each of us was to have, partly on the Monday and partly on the Thursday or Friday—Leon was present on the Thursday; he said he did not want nothing, but Adolphe said, "He does not do anything for nothing"—this affair had been talked of from the beginning; they said there would be 15,000l.—Palmer said, "Well, we will give you 3,000l. to buy the things"—Adolphe was not content with 3,000l.; he said, "What about my brother?"—I said, "There is the other man, too; divide it into four equal shares, one for Adolphe, one for me, one for Palmer, and one for Jacoby"—that was when we were to go with the chloroform—when that was altered, instead of Jacoby Scanland was to take his part instead, and what was over was to be divided between Jacoby and Leon—at first it was to be divided into thirds, and when Palmer came in it was to be into fourths—Adolphe afterwards said there might not be 15,000l., he said 6,000l., and there might be less than that—Scanland was not present when we talked about the shares; Palmer spoke for him—on Tuesday, the 23rd, I went to Palmer's and went with him to the neighbourhood of the Elephant and Castle, and he went into a small shop and bought a stick with a big top—we then went to another shop and bought some gutta-percha—we then went to my place in St. George's Road—this (produced, a life preserver) looks like the stick, but it was longer then; he cut it twice—when we got home he warmed the gutta-percha by the fire and put it on the stick, and then washed his hands because they were sticky and took the stick away with him—he cut it the next day, because it was too long for his pocket—on the Tuesday, as he was warming the gutta-percha at the fire, my daughter came in and her uncle, Mr. Ross, and a man called for a sewing machine that my daughter had hired, and he got half a sovereign, signed a book, and went away—I afterwards described to the inspector where the life preserver and the gutta-percha were bought—on the morning of Wednesday, the 24th, we went to Mr. Tabak's with Scanland and Palmer; we met in Gray's Inn Road, just outside the station of the Underground Railway, and all three went towards Belgrave

Street together—it was a little past 9, I think—I had on the new coat with the top coat, and a new hut; Adolphe had given me 1l. on the Saturday before to buy it; I always wear a high hat—I had with me this bill head; I had altered that on the Wednesday—I and Palmer went upstairs; Scanland remained outside; he said he would act like a detective; if anybody came out after us he would stop them, and ask what was the matter, to detain them; or if anybody came in he would come into the house and give us notice to come out—Mr. Tabak answered the door to us—he first asked what we wanted, then he said "What have you got to sell? let me see?"—Palmer said "We have got nothing to sell; we want to buy some diamonds"—then he shut the door and led the way upstairs into the back room first floor—there was a table, and a safe just at the end of the table—I sat at the table next to him, and he showed a pocket-book with all the diamonds—he took it out of the safe—I was supposed to choose the diamonds and look at them—I got several of them, two or three packets, I think—I chose a quantity of them, and I got a few in my left hand—then he said "Who sent you here?"—I said "Mr. Asher, from Paris"—Palmer said "I am staying at the Bath Hotel"—he was supposed to speak; I was supposed to be a Frenchman—he did not speak to me—Palmer saw I had a few of the diamonds which I intended to pull away—I should have been satisfied if I had got them—Palmer said "Don't do that; we will have all the lot presently"—that made me tremble a little, and I turned round with an excuse and got hold of his hat, which had a hole in the top, and I put a diamond in that hole, because it looked well on the hat, and I said "For God's sake don't do it"—he said. "It's all right"—I said "No, no; I hear somebody in the other room"—this is the hat (produced); it had on a mourning band, and it has a ventilator at the top—I then put down the diamonds I had in my hand, and stood there—Mr. Tabak said those I had selected were 53 carats; and he put them in an envelope, and told me to put my name on it, and I put the initials "D. T." after he had sealed it—Palmer then said we were going to the bank to get the money—I think we were to pay 250l., or something like that; I forget now—we said we would come back with the money—we then went out—we saw Scanland outside—Palmer said, "He would not let me do it"—I said, "It can't be, the servant was on the stairs"—we went back again in a quarter of an hour or 20 minutes—the servant and Mrs. Tabak answered the door and spoke to me in French—Mr. Tabak was out—we asked if we could come back about half-past 5—she said, "I don't know, he has gone out on business, but you can see him at half-past 3"—we then came out again—we just spoke to Scanland, and then the three of us went to the Public-house in Holborn—there was nobody there—Palmer went to the Havelock, came back and said Weiner was there, and we went there, and the two Weiners were there—we had something to drink—Adolphe said, "Let us go out of this; where can we go?"—Scanland and Palmer said, "Down here," and we all five went to a public-house in Theobald's Road—Palmer said there was a very nice chance, and I would not let him do it, and Weiner snapped his fingers and treated me as a coward for not letting him do it—they all said we must go again at half-past 3—me and Palmer then left—we had to stop a long time in the street, and then it was that he cut the string and shortened the life-preserver—

about 3 o'clock we went back to Mr. Tabak's, but we did not go in—Scanland said there was a pianoforte going in, and a publishing man going in and out, and it was no use to wait, so we took the train and went to Scanland's place, and he said he would see us in the morning—Palmer and I went back to Theobald's Road, where we saw Adolphe—we told him what had passed—he said we must go again to-morrow at 9 o'clock, and he would write a letter—he went out and fetched a sheet of paper and an envelope, and asked Palmer to write—Palmer said, "I am not much of a letter-writer"—Adolphe said, "I must not write, Mr. Tabak knows my writing"—then he asked me to write—I said, "I am supposed to be a Frenchman, how can I write?"—he said "Write," and I wrote, pretending it was my partner—he tore it up and said it was no use, and he fetched another sheet of paper, and I wrote another letter, partly at his dictation—this is the letter. (This was signed "D. T.," and stated that he would come to-morrow at 10 o'clock.) I posted the letter; Adolphe was present when I did so, and gave me the stamp—before going to Mr. Tabak, Adolphe showed this ticket, and I saw his name at the back. (This was headed "Charles Beaumont Vaughan" and was a list of property left as security by Mr. A. Weiner, 6, Dyer's Buildings, Holborn, on 24th March.) He gave me back the ticket with his own name on, and then he gave 10s. to Palmer for his scarf-pin—on the Monday Adolphe said, "I have not seen yours yet," and Palmer gave Weiner the ticket, and then Adolphe gave him the 10s.—he gave me nothing—after Palmer went away I and he went through the little streets behind Holborn before we posted the letter—I said, "Are you going to give me this money for the ticket?"—he had promised 3l. or 4l. for it—he said, "No, I will not give you 10s."—I said, "Well, you know what straits I am in, you know I have been messing about these few days, I have not paid the rent, and I am in misery"—he said, "You had a chance to-day, you could have relieved yourself, you would not do it; go again to-morrow; if the affair does not come off, well, then I will give you the money next week"—he gave me 5s. and said, "Don't forget to post the letter"—the last note he gave me I kept; it was found on me when I was arrested—next morning, Thursday, 25th March, I went with Scanland and Palmer to Tabak's—I had that and another French bill-head with me—I had altered the figures on it from 2,000 francs to 22,000 francs, and Adolphe put the stamp on it—that was done a little before I went to Tabak's—on the 25th, when we got to Tabak's, I left Scanland outside in the same place—we went into the house and knocked at the door—he said, "I have received your letter"—Palmer said "Yes"—we went upstairs into a room—Tabak opened the safe—he gave me the envelope with all the diamonds in it—I opened it, and as he saw me open it he said to Palmer, "Don't he want it?"—he said, "Yes, he wants some more big ones for a necklace"—while he was speaking I got the pincers and got eight or nine diamonds, and I pretended to take my pocket-book out and dropped them into my pocket—I took out my pocket-book and showed him the card of the Rue St. Honore, and I said that was my partner—he did not care about the look of the card, he was looking at his diamonds—Palmer was standing behind me and Tabak, we were sitting down—Tabak brought some big diamonds out, and then gave me a big packet of diamonds, and I put half of it along with this envelope, and had it all in one hand and the pincers in the other, picking

up the diamonds with the pincers—he saw I was putting one class with the other, and he said to Palmer, "Is he in the trade?"—Palmer said "No"—he said, "Who brought here this gentleman?"—he said, "I did"—he said, "I will give you something for it"—he said, "I will bring them to your hotel if you like," and then he went to light the fire, for he thought I was cold; I was all of a tremble, I thought he saw me taking the diamonds; I had three or four between the paper and my hand—I had no time to tell Palmer there was a chance to get them from him without doing him any harm, because Palmer knocked him on the head with the stick—Tabak put his hands and knees together, and I jumped up and ran away—I cannot say if Palmer dealt more than one blow—as I ran out Mrs. Tabak was coming up; I did not like to drop the old lady down the stairs because they were so narrow, so I stopped till the came up—Palmer came out and passed me down the passage, and got away first; I could hardly walk, I got out of the door after him—I saw Scanland, who ran after me; a gentleman near saw us—I went in one direction, Palmer in another, I do not know where he went—I got to the nearest station—I was afterwards stopped by a constable, I was walking at the time—I then put my diamonds in my breast, they were never found—I was taken back to Tabak's, then to the police-station, and afterwards before a Magistrate—I was searched at the station, but the diamonds had dropped down my clothes and were not found—the contract note with the name of Adolphe Weiner was found on me, and the French bill-head and the list of Cunard vessels for America—after the contract note had been found on me Adolphe and Leon Weiner were sent for, and both came to the station—the inspector asked him if he knew me—he said, "Yes, I saw him two or three times, he came up to my place to ask for some work as a designer," because when Mr. Thomas, the police superintendent, came and spoke to me in French, I put myself as a designer, and then I wrote it down when I was at the House of Detention—before I went down to the cells at the House of Detention, one officer said to another, thinking I did not understand English, "This is a special"—the other said, "What is that for?"—he said, "For attempted murder"—I had my hand on the diamonds, which were wrapped in the thumb of my glove, and I cast them into a bucket of water as I passed—I was committed for trial, tried at this Court, and convicted and sentenced to 15 years' penal servitude—two or three days before I was tried I made a statement to my solicitor.

Cross-examined byMR. KEMP. I am an Italian—I was born in 1827 or 1828—I came here in 1858—I was not convicted in Italy—I went from Italy to France—I was not charged with Orsini for attempting to murder the Emperor—that affair was on 14th January, I think—I came to London on 25th March—I do not know that that the French police were looking after me—my first conviction was four months; I don't remember the date—I next had three years for being with a man who took a pin from a shop—I next had six years for buying a chronometer, which they called receiving stolen goods—in 1868 I had two eight years, one after another—I have been unfortunate; I have been bound to do it—I was an arranger and designer of diamonds so far as I could—I had a shop—Jacoby introduced me to Adolphe Weiner a few days before Christmas—he did not introduce me as a person who understood the designing of

diamonds, or as wanting work—Jacoby told him I had been in trouble before; he said that in my presence, and he knew it very well—I swear that he told him the same night—I might go round a shop for a month before I would steal from it—I do not make inquiries beforehand—I never knew about the design of any article of jewellery—Adolphe called me so when he came to the police-station—I did not tell the police first before he came that I was a designer—I only went with Weiner to Paris once—I have been once there with Palmer and Scanland—I stayed at the Rue Amsterdam, the English Hotel—we both stopped at the same hotel, and went about together in Paris—Adolphe met one person in Paris whom he said he knew—and he told me the place where he was going to see him—I went with Weiner to Paris with the intention of robbing shops; he paid the expenses with that intention—I stole the earrings in Paris from near the l'Eglise Trinitie at the Place de la Trinitie—I can't be sure of the name of the shop—we came away at the same time with Wheeler—I knew he was a jeweller—he said he was well known in the trade—I only saw him in my and Jacoby's company—Adolphe first mentioned the name of Tabak to me when he took me to the restaurant in Holborn; Jacoby was there also—Adolphe never went with me to Tabak's; he told me the directions—Jacoby had that piece of paper—I did not meet Weiner every day, but sometimes three or four times a week, and discussed this attack on Tabak—I asked Weiner to buy this earring, that was in pawn, of me—he said he wanted to look at it before he bought it—after seeing it he did not say it was not worth buying; he was cross with it, and gave me the ticket back, and said he would not give me 10s.—I did not send my daughter to try and get money from him after I had been in prison—I suppose she went by herself; I did not know what she did—she did not know we were going to attack Tabak—I told her on the Wednesday night when I went home what had happened to me; that was after I failed to attack him—prior to that I had never mentioned the subject to her—Weiner sent money by her to tell her father to take care that the buttons were off the trousers—we came back from Paris on the Sunday, at the beginning of March or the end of February; I expect it was the beginning of March—I got the clothes not three weeks before I was apprehended—I did not pawn them soon after I got them—I left the overcoat at home the morning I went to Tabak's; I had another coat on—I don't know if the goods I got from Newman's were pawned afterwards—I gave them to my daughter from Pentonville—I had all Newman's clothes on but the overcoat when I went to Tabak's.

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. The day the rabbit was bought I and the Weiners lunched together—I did not buy the rabbit—I don't know where it was bought—Leon went to fetch the rabbit, and he came home with it when Adolph and I were there—I did not say before the Magistrate "I went with both the Weiners to a place in Holborn and got the rabbit," nor did I say "We then went to my house; we found Leon Weiner there with the rabbit"—that part of my deposition was not read to me—I had two lots of papers given me to sign—Leon bought the rabbit—I saw Adolphe three or four times a week between the time of the experiments with chloroform on the rabbit and the time I was taken—Palmer had only been three times into my house—I might

have told the Magistrate it was a fortnight after the chloroform was given to the rabbit that I saw him at my house, but I cannot remember the date, and I don't think I mentioned the date before the Magistrate—I tried chloroform on two kittens, and I tried it on one woman in Hyde Park—Jacoby proposed that—that was before it was tried on a rabbit—the only woman I tried it on was sleeping, and if it was chloroform she was to snore, but instead of that she sprang up—he said it was good chloroform, or else she would not have woke up.

Cross-examined byMR. GRAIN. My own name shall not be published—Jacoby promised to supply me with chloroform; that was before Christmas, in his shop in the Walworth Road—nobody else was present—it was a barber's shop—he sold pomatum and scent, and had a lot of bottles—I told him I wanted the chloroform for Mr. Tabak—he told me he had a friend, an old Jew, worth 15,000l., he did not mention his name, and that he would get the chloroform and hold it under his nose and make him sleep, and get the 15,000l., and give 5,000l. to himself, and 5,000l. to Adolphe Weiner, and 5,000l. for me—I left the chloroform in a bottle in a cupboard at home—it was there when I was charged—my daughter was living there—Jacoby gave it to me in a big round bottle with a label on—he took the label off when he brought it in in my presence; no one else was present—my daughter was going in and out and getting tea ready at the time—we had two parlours—she saw it on the mantelpiece, where I put it—I and Jacoby were in the room—I had two other perfumery bottles which I filled out of the first—one of the two had a scent label on it; I think the other had not—I used the big bottle for the rabbit, and one of the little bottles for the kitten and for the woman in Hyde Park—I and Leon Weiner went to a disorderly house in Greek Street, Soho, to try the effect of the chloroform—I had one of the little bottles with me—we had a woman apiece—he wanted me to use it on the woman—I would not—except on the rabbit I never used the big bottle; I did not carry it about—the experiment on the rabbit was at the time I got the clothes, which was about three weeks before I was apprehended—Jacoby came to my place the day after I and Adolphe had returned from Paris; no mention was then made of what we proposed to do with Tabak—he did not know it—I saw him every day when he was in the Walworth Road—he removed to the Edgware Road a little before the riots of 8th February—I saw him then at the Edgware Road—he said he had spent a lot of money on the chloroform, and wanted to know what was going to be done—I don't know what he meant by a lot of money—the big bottle contained about a quartern, about four wine glasses full—we put a lot on a handkerchief for the rabbit—Jacoby knew nothing about the stick, but he knew about the chloroform—he did not know how the robbery was going to be done or when, because Weiner told me not to go to him; they fell out about something—the kitten only sneezed a bit when I gave it chloroform—I used the large bottle to it—I did not tell Inspector Langrish he had got some of the wrong men; they misunderstood that—it is not true that I had to leave France because of the attempt on the Emperor's life with a bomb-shell—I left France after that; I had nothing to do with it—I will not say why I left Italy—if his lordship wishes to be acquainted with my previous life I will write it down—my

daughter introduced me to Jacoby as her sweetheart after I came out from Dartmoor—I know he is now married—I did not understand he had promised to marry her—he told me afterwards he was very sorry he did not marry her—I saw the label on the chloroform was red, that was all; he told me where it came from.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I made Palmer's acquaintance at Dartmoor—afterwards, when I came back from Italy, I and my daughter visited him, and his wife visited us frequently, and his sister-in-law came twice—they have been to dinner with me and I with them—I had a little difference with Palmer about my visit to Paris in October—I was not very angry with him—I wrote to him every night because I was in want of money—I don't think I ever threatened him with anything very severe—I did not threaten to get him into trouble—I never had a wish to ruin any man—I have been bound to do this disgraceful thing—I had no wish to ruin Palmer—I saw him several times before the robbery—it was Scanland I swore I had not seen till three or four days before I went to Tabak's—two or three days after I had been in London Palmer brought me 1l.—a little after Christmas time I sent my daughter to Mr. Tabak's—she did not know we were going to rob him—I sent her to see what sort of a man Mr. Tabak was—she said he was such a disagreeable old man—I said "I shall not go"—I never told her till the Wednesday night, when I came home and told her what had happened—I sent my daughter to pawn things several times during the 16 months I was at liberty—I don't know whether she knew they were stolen—Jacoby asked me if she did, and I said no—I didn't tell her the diamond brooch I gave her to pawn was stolen—I don't know if she imagined it—I saw her at Pentonville about 12 days after I was sentenced for about 20 minutes—she was alone—I saw her also at Wormwood Scrubs with Langrish—I don't remember if she told me the name of these five men as being in custody—after that a gentleman from the Treasury came and showed me something written out—I would not look at it—I said "What are you going to do with me?"—I did not expect my sentence would be shortened, I thought I should be shifted—I did not ask Mr. Batchelor if they would let me out if I made such a statement—he did not say "I have power to do it," and I did not say "I shall not say anything in assistance of my daughter's statement"—I thought they meant to make use of the papers without my coming into Court, and I had not spoken a single word at my trial, because I was instructed not to do so; they said "If anything is known they expect the other four men will fly away"—the Magistrate at Bow Street asked me questions because I had refused to assist the solicitor for the Treasury, because I said they hail no right to take the papers away—I did not hear Mr. Batchelor say at the same time that he could not lighten my sentence—I saw Langrish and my daughter once at Bow Street, they did not speak to me.

Tuesday, November 2nd.

DONATO DENUNZIO (Cross-examination continued byMR. BROMBY). I wrote the letter in a public-house in Theobald's Road on the mantel-piece—I did not say before the Magistrate it was a public-house in the Edgware Road—we went there from Holborn—the clerk is wrong in saying in the deposition "I went back with Palmer to the public-house

in the Edgware Road," it was in the Theobald's Road—I told the clerk it was wrong and he altered it (The correction had been made in the original deposition).

Re-examined. I had not seen chloroform used before it was used to the kitten—I never saw the stuff before—I applied it on a handkerchief to its nose—Leon Weiner and I applied it to the rabbit—Leon went with me in the park with the chloroform—that was after Jacoby went to the Edgware Road, two or three days after I was introduced to him—I carried the bottle into the park—I took it from the big bottle—Leon told me to take a couple of women under the trees—it was night, about half past 10—he did not want me to do it before him, but to go farther away—we both went away—I did not apply it that time—we went to Edgware Road and took train to Gower Street; from there we went to the Haymarket—I went with him to the house in Fleet Street the same night we were out in the park—Leon went away and I went to the park—I had the bottle with me—I did not go to the park with the intention, but I passed through it to go home, and I saw a woman sleeping on an iron sofa, and I said to myself, "If this woman is asleep she will snore"—I put chloroform on a handkerchief and put it just under her nose—she jumped up and she said "I know what you have got," and "Are you going to treat me?"—I gave her half a crown; she would not go away; I gave her another half-crown and she went away—when I had been to Tabak's on Wednesday I saw my daughter in the evening—I told her what had happened—she saw I was exhausted and very bad—she sat near me and said "What's the matter, daddy?"—I waited a long time before I said anything, and I said "I am afraid I am going to leave you again"—"Why?" she said; I said after a long time "I am so entangled, mixed up with this affair, I cannot extricate myself from these people; I have compromised myself; we went to a certain place," that something had been arranged between me and Palmer, Scanland, and Weiner, and I told her what was done and how it was to be done, what we had been doing with Tabak as explained yesterday, and that we had a lot of money between five of us—I said "We have an appointment to go again to-morrow"—she said "You won't go, daddy; you won't go; you promise me you won't go"—I said "No, dear, I won't go;" but I was bound to go—she remembered the place; she said "That is why you sent me to that place"—I said "It was not for that"—I have seen the clothes I was wearing from Newman's except the top coat, I wore another one—I had nothing to do with the plot at Paris—being Italians we left Paris after the attack on the Emperor, and came to London on 25th March.

GEORGE MILTON . I am manager to Mr. Vaughan, pawnbroker, of 39, Strand—I remember a woman pawning a pair of diamond earrings—I advanced 15l., then 3l., and then 2l.—on the last advance I gave this contract note of 18th March—I saw before the Magistrate the daughter of Toussaint—she brought the earrings—on Wednesday evening, 24th March, the contract note was brought to me by the two Weiners—they asked me to show them the earrings—I required them to pay 6s. 8d. interest—then I showed them the earrings—they said they had an idea of purchasing the ticket—when they saw the articles they asked me to give them a new memorandum of them—the substance of

the conversation was they did not think the earrings were worth more than what we advanced on them—they wanted the new ticket to return to the party, that was my impression—they declined to pay 20l. to get them out—the name on the ticket was Miss Dufour—I should not have put their name on the ticket had they not requested it—the date was 24th March—they went away taking the ticket—I kept the other one—I am sure both were there.

Cross-examined byMR. KEMP. Adolphe said, I believe, "As I have paid the interest I will have a new note made out in my name"—both Weiners looked at the stones as a professional man would—it is a custom amongst dealers to come and examine jewels in that way—it is also a common thing for dealers of respectability and diamond merchants to pawn things when they want a temporary loan—Miss Toussaint said they had left France or Italy for political reasons; I believe it was France—the money was for their support—she did not say her father had to leave England.

Re-examined. I am not positive, but think it was about 11 a.m. on 20th February when Miss Toussaint called in the name of Ads Dufour—I should say the earrings are French mount, and they bear the French stamp.

ELENA DENUNZIO . I am Mr. Toussaint's daughter—he came out of prison in December, 1884—while he was in prison I made the acquaintance of Jacoby—I was about 15 when I first knew him—I became intimate with him—he promised to marry me—he was then living at his fathers place in Long Lane, City—after he was married he lived in the Walworth Road—I do not know the month he was married, it was last Year—he had a hairdresser's shop—I knew Palmer as West, and Scanland by the name of Scanland—I knew he was the brother of West—about November, 1885, Palmer and Scanland went with my father to Paris—they went on Wednesday night and came back on the Saturday morning—I was then living with my father at 115, St. George's Road—while they were away I stayed at Shepherd's Bush with Scanland's wife—I did not then know either of the Weiners—I had seen Adolphe Weiner some years ago, but I did not recognise him when I saw him again—he had come to Jacoby's house when I was living there as a general servant—when I saw Adolphe again it was soon after Christmas, when he came to our house in St. George's Road with Jacoby—my father was at home—he was not introduced to me—they all went out soon—he came to our house a great many times, not on that day—I think it was before I saw Adolphe I went to Tabak's—it was about a month before Christmas—I was sent to Tabak's by my father—I saw Mr. Tabak and the servant—I remember my father and Adolphe going to Paris in February—I went with father on the Sunday evening to see him off at Charing Cross—Adolphe did not arrive in time—my father did not go then—Adolphe came one morning between 9 and 10 o'clock and said they had made a mistake, and that he would tell father to meet him at the Holborn Viaduct Station—he said "We will go this evening"—I believe he said at 6 o'clock—he went away—father went away that evening—I did not go to see him off—my cousin, Margaret Ross, stayed with me while my father was away—he came back about 8 a.m. on Saturday, alone—he showed me a pair of diamond earrings—I took them to a pawnbroker's

in the Strand between 10 and 11 o'clock—I gave the name of Miss Dufour—I got 15l., afterwards 3l., and then 2l. and a contract ticket—I saw Leon about March; I did not see him many times—he came to our house with his brother—I was not introduced to him—I did not know him till afterwards, when I heard them talking—it was one evening the end of February, after my father came back from Paris—I did not know where they lived, nor where their office was—I saw a bottle of chloroform—Jacoby brought it to St. George's Road about a month after Christmas—I saw him give father a bottle—it was a round bottle—so far as I can remember it had a patent stopper like a scent bottle, a bottle that you shake like a pepper-box, then the stuff will come out—a scent lable was on it—my father was home—Jacoby said something about a trouble to get it; that was all I heard—I saw father trying it on the kitten—he had a handkerchief round his own nose and mouth—he was putting some under the kitten's nose—it was our own kitten—only father and I were then in the room—some weeks after I saw father and Adolphe trying it on the same kitten at our lodgings—I was in the next room—Adolphe left his address that morning on the table—it was 6, Dyer's Buildings, Holborn—father had two similar bottles at that time—he put some out of the large bottle into the smaller ones—the bottles were left at home in the cupboard—some of the stuff was in all three bottles—some time after I went with my father to Newman's in the Strand, to order a new suit of clothes and an overcoat—I do not remember the date, but they came home on the Saturday—my father wore them—Palmer came to my father's after his return from Paris, soon after the riots in London—I believe it would be the next day—he gave father a sovereign—it was off the money he owed him—I think Palmer came before my father went to Paris with Adolphe—I saw Palmer after that—Leon came to our house with Adolphe in the middle of the week after father had the clothes, about Wednesday; my father had the clothes on—both Weiners were there, and Palmer—Leon went up and looked at the clothes, and asked him how they fitted him, pretending that he was a tailor, joking—they stayed about two hours—I went out and fetched them some drink and cigars—when I brought it father told me to go downstairs—afterwards they all went out together—I had not seen Palmer and the Weiners together before this—I remember a rabbit being brought to the lodgings on 19th March—I first saw it in my bedroom in a canvas bag that was hanging on the post of the bedstead—that is the bag (produced)—it had handles then—father hung it there—my cousin and I went to—father told us to go for a walk—we left him there with Adolphe and Leon—we were away about three-quarters of an hour—my cousin, Margaret Rose, returned with me—when we knocked at the door they did not answer it directly—then father opened the door—the windows were open—Adolphe was in the passage—he did not speak to me; father and Leon were in the room—I did not notice my father till I went in—the street window was open as far as it would go—there is one window at the front and one at the back; both were open—nothing was said to me when I went in—the rabbit was on the table—father said it would do for our dinner, But I would not have it; it looked almost dead; it was very quiet—Adolphe went out first a few minutes, and then Leon went away; father remained at homer—the rabbit was

afterwards given to the landlady, Mrs. Reid, who returned it, and my cousin, Margaret Ross, afterwards had it and the bag—the rabbit was afterwards killed and skinned, and I believe dressed and eaten—when I went into the room on this occasion I did not smell anything—I saw the bottles on the dressing table in my bedroom afterwards, when I went into the bedroom after coming home—they were kept in the cupboard, but they had been taken out to be used—I did not see them when I went out; we occupied the parlours—my bedroom was on the ground floor, not the basement—I saw the rabbit on the table in the sitting-room—there are folding doors between my bedroom and the sitting-room—on Sunday, the 21st, Palmer came to our house with his wife and sister-in-law, Mrs. Scanland—my cousin was there—I did not see the other prisoners that Sunday; father was there—on Monday, the 22nd, Palmer came again, and again on Tuesday, the 23rd—my father was there on the 23rd; Palmer had his dinner there—on that day the man came for the instalment on the sewing machine—he was paid and signed the book at the table—I did not see any life preserver, or gutta-percha, or anything done in the room that day—I knew then that Palmer had been living in the Euston Road—I had been there; it was 202—I have never been there alone, but always with my father—I saw Scanland there outside—I remember my father living there—on Wednesday, 24th March, my father went out in the morning; he was out all day—he did not tell me what he was going to do—he returned between 7 and 8 p.m.—he told me where he had been—I spoke to him on the subject—I gave him advice—on Thursday, the 25th, my father left in the morning before I was up—I did not see him again till he was in custody—on that day I saw Palmer—he came to our house between 12 and 1 o'clock; he passed the window, and beckoned to me to follow him—I went to the corner of the street and joined him—he did not have an overcoat—"Oh," he said, "I suppose you know where your father has been to-day?"—I said "Yes"—he said "Well, I have struck the old man, and he screamed; his wife came up, and we were obliged to run away"—I asked if my father had got away, and he said "No; my brother was outside, and he did all he could for him"—he said his brother had tried to stop the servant—he said "You had better pack up your luggage and leave it in the deposit room at the Waterloo Station"—he said that I had better get away from St. George's Road as soon as I could, and then go down to Mr. Weiner, and tell him that he must assist me—then he went away—I did not know his address—he told me he would meet me at 8 o'clock at Charing Cross, near Trafalgar Square, where, the 'buses start—I packed up our things in the Gladstone bag, the portmanteau, the tin hat-box, a large leather bag and a small one; two coats were rolled round and some umbrellas—we put the small bag and the coats together—I got a cab and took the things to Waterloo Station, and deposited them there in the cloak-room; there were six packages; I paid a shilling—I cannot remember whether I gave a name; I think I did—Palmer said nothing about the name—I have seen the clerk who was at Waterloo Station at the police-court; I knew him again—after depositing the things I did not keep my appointment with Palmer—I first went to Adolphe Weiner—when I left St. George's Road I told the landlady we should be back in a few days—I went to 6, Dyer's Buildings—I went upstairs to an office and saw Adolphe there; there was a boy there—

when he saw me he said "For God's sake go down; I will meet you in Castle Street"—that is the next turning—I left and went to Castle Street—I waited there two or three minutes for him—he came down, and we went into a wine merchants in Chancery Lane—I said "This is a nice thing you have brought my father into; what are you going to do?"—he said he did not know what I meant, what I was talking about—he said he had only tried to get my father a situation—I told him it was no use for him to tell me that because I knew all about it—he said that he and his brother had been arrested that morning and taken to Hunter Street about the ticket, and "Don't you come round here because I am watched"—then he gave me 5s., and he said he would give me that amount every week till I got employment—he made an appointment to meet me the next Saturday morning at 12 o'clock at the wine merchant's in Chancery Lane—then I left him, and went to Jacoby's house in the Edgware Road—he was not at home; it is not a shop; it is on the first floor—then I went to Palmer's mother-in-law, Mrs. Robartes, 78, New Compton Street—when I had been there a short time Palmer came in—soon after that his wife came in, and he said I had better go home with them; I did so—I told Palmer when I got to his place in Whitfield Street, Tottenham Court Road, where I had been—I slept there that night—before I went to bed I told him the particulars of what had happened—he said I must tell Mr. Weiner that he must give me the money for a solicitor; that was to defend my father—Palmer and Mrs. Palmer came with me to fetch my luggage from Waterloo, and we brought it back to his house, 121, Whitfield Street; it consisted of some of my things and some of my father's—Palmer said he had struck the old man, and his wife came up, and they both ran downstairs—he said he took a cab from off the rank in the Euston Road and drove to the Portland Road Station; that he went in on one side and came out on the other, and bought a hat—he told me he had lost his hat—he had a hat with a band round it; he was in mourning for his brother's child—my father's hat had no band—from the luggage I gave Palmer the three bottles of chloroform I have referred to; each of them had some in—he said he would throw them away—Palmer asked me what I had done with them after I had got my luggage—I cannot remember whether he called it "chloroform" or "stuff," but I knew what he meant—I said, "I have them in a little bag," "a small bag"—I had one letter from Jacoby and two from my father, and two or three of his own that he had written to father—we burned them—he asked me if I had his letters and if I brought them away—on Friday morning I saw Palmer's overcoat soon after breakfast; he said he would get rid of it, he might be recognised if he wore it—I then went with his wife, who pledged it in Drummond Street, the first turning past the Euston Road; it was pawned for 11s.; I did not notice the name; his wife took the ticket—on the Friday I saw Jacoby—I went to his house in the Edgware Road; I told him I wished to speak to him, and he told me to wait at the corner of the street for him—this was about 9 o'clock in the evening—Palmer and his wife came with me, they topped at the other end of the street, Jacoby did not see them—I asked Jacoby what business he had to tell my father to do such a thing as that—he pretended that he did not know what I meant—I asked him if he had not seen the papers—he said, "No, I have not had a penny to buy

one"—then I told him what had occurred, that they had been to Mr. Tabak's, and that he had been struck, that my father had been taken, and he said, "Well, I did not know they were going to strike him; I wish I had never seen your father, I have been going about spending money receiving upon this"—I had not then said anything to him about money, I had not asked him for anything—I told him it he had been relying upon it he should have done it himself—he did not say anything to that—I told him that he must take some money to the House of Detention to keep my father—he said he could not take it, or would not, or something to that effect—I told him that he must, or else he should be there with him—then he said he would take it; he said he would go and fetch his overcoat and umbrella to take the money down that night—he went in then to fetch his coat—while he was away I spoke to Palmer and his wife; I told them that Jacoby would take the money down to the prison—it was about half-past 9—Mrs. Palmer said, "Oh, it's no use, it's too late"—when Jacoby returned I told him it was too late—Jacoby did not come where the Palmers were, but I walked to the end of the street by myself—I said to Jacoby, "It is too late to-night," and he said he would take it "to-morrow" night—he told me to meet him at the corner of Jerusalem Passage in Aylesbury Street, Clerkenwell—he then left me, and I joined the Palmers—I slept there that Friday sight at Whitfield Street—on Saturday morning, the 27th, I went to keep the appointment to see Adolphe Weiner at the wine-shop in Chancery Lane at 12 o'clock; I met him—I told him he must give me the money for the solicitor, and he said "No," he would not give me a penny, he would sooner go to Bow Street and get 10 years at once—I told him I thought that was the best thing he could do—afterwards he gave me a sovereign—he asked me whether I thought the landlady would remember him—I said "Yes," I thought she would, and that she would be making inquiries because we owed her four weeks' rent—he then said she must be paid—he asked me how much it was, and I told him 2l. 12s.—he told me to meet him on the Monday at 2 o'clock, and he would bring me the money for me to pay the landlady—we met on the Monday near the old Bankruptcy Courts; I do not know the name of the street, but it is near the corner where Hope Brothers are, right at the bottom—we had taken the luggage and left no address, and the rent was owing—when I parted from Adolphe on that Saturday I went to keep the appointment with Jacoby—I went home to Palmer's—I told Palmer that Weiner had given me a sovereign, and that he said he would give me the money for the rent—Palmer said that a Sovereign would not be enough for a solicitor—then I met Jacoby at 9 o'clock—I gave him the sovereign to take to the public-house opposite the House of Detention, I do not know the name—I asked him about the name, and he said he had it already written on a piece of paper, I mean my father's name, Toussaint—I and my father had been living in the name of "Denunzio"—I went with Jacoby to the door of the public-house, Jacoby went in—Palmer and his wife were waiting for me in Aylesbury Street in a public-house close by—I waited till Jacoby came out from the beershop—he said he had given it to a lady behind the door (that was some money to take some things to my father), and that he would be all right till Thursday morning—the following day, Sunday, the 28th, I arranged to meet Jacoby at 8 p.m.—he had told me on the Saturday night that he

would go to Mrs. Reid's, the landlady in St. George's Road—I asked him if he would go; that was to see if anybody had been making inquiries for us—he said no one had been inquiring for us—on Monday, the 29th, I went to the Bankruptcy Court to keep the appointment with Adolphe; he did not come—Jacoby came and brought me 3l., and said that Leon Weiner had brought it up to him at 9 o'clock that morning, he said that was to pay the rent—I appointed to meet him at the Marble Arch the Wednesday following—I went the same night to 115, St. George's Road, and paid the landlady the 2l. 12s. rent—I did not keep the appointment with Jacoby on the Wednesday—I saw Palmer that day—I spoke to him about the arrest of three men for the diamond robbery announced on a newspaper placard; I had seen it on the Wednesday afternoon—Palmer said he thought it was the two Weiners and Jacoby—it was in consequence of that that I did not keep the appointment at the Marble Arch—on Friday, 2nd April, I went to Jacoby's shop in the Edgware Road; I inquired for him but could not learn where he was—I did not see him for seven weeks—on 3rd April, a Saturday, I went to the House of Detention and saw my father—I saw Palmer when I went hack to his place—neither of the prisoners had told me to say anything to my father on the first occasion I visited him—when I went back to Palmer's I told him I had been to see my father—he said I had done wrong to go there; he said, "You are sure to be followed," and then they would take me—I told him I did not think I had been followed—I don't think anything more was said—I know they were very cross with me for going, he and his wife—Palmer said they would follow me home and take him—he asked me if father had said anything and I said, "Yes, father says that you have the other diamonds"—he swore he had never seen them at all—I said father told me to tell him to blacken his moustache and to keep away from the Horseshoe in the Tottenham Court Road, because father had told the authorities that he first met him in the Horseshoe—the detectives or somebody had been questioning him—father had said that Palmer was a German—Palmer said that father was an old fool to say that, as he was known there, and "Mind you, if I am took I shall round on the lot"—the next day, Sunday, I wrote to Adolphe—I gave the letter to Palmer to post—Palmer said, "If you see Mr. Weiner tell him I would like to meet him to-morrow night at 8 o'clock at the Temple Pier"—I did write and make an appointment for the next day, and I saw Adolphe alone in Chancery Lane the next day, Monday, the 5th—I sent the letter to No. 6, Dyer's Buildings—Adolphe did not speak but motioned for me to follow him—I followed him to Temple Pier; it was about two o'clock—he took tickets for Battersea Park by the steamer; we went to Gatti's place in Battersea Park—Adolphe said, "Don't write again, that letter frightened me; I thought that letter was from your father, you write just like him"—he told me not to write to him at all—I told him I had been to see my father, and that my father had said he had engaged a solicitor and that he must pay for him; he said he would not—I said, "Very well, I will tell father what you say"—I told him that father said Palmer had the diamonds and that he had brought them to him (Adolphe)—he said that he had not seen either Palmer or the diamonds—I told him Palmer wished to see him and would meet him at 8 o'clock, and he said, "Tell him you have not seen me; I don't want to see him"—he said, "Do you think if Palmer was

taken he would say anything?"—I said, "Yes, he says if he is taken he will round on the lot"—he said, "Do you think he would leave the country and go to America?"—I said, "Yes, he wishes to go away but he has not the money"—he gave me 30s.—he said, "You can give the solicitor the guinea and tell him you will give him another one next week"—I said I did not like to offer him only one guinea as four guineas were due—he said, "You must not let these people know you have money"—he said something else I do not remember—he promised to meet me the next Thursday night—I had had no occasion to give my name to anybody—on the 6th April I left Palmer's lodgings at Whitfield Street and went to Soho—we carried the luggage from Palmer's house to Soho Square, and then we took a cab—Mrs. Palmer and I and two boys carried the luggage—we went in the cab from Soho Square to St. George's Road—before that we went to 73, New Compton Street to get the portmanteau—I have seen the cabman who drove us outside the Court—that day was the first time I had seen Scanland to speak to—after the 25th I saw him in Palmer's place—I was going to see father in the House of Detention; he said, "Be careful, be very careful, that you are not followed, and give my respects to your father and tell him I have done all I could for you"—after I had gone to St. George's Road on Thursday, the 8th, I saw Adolphe at Canonbury Station by appointment—he asked me if I would arrange for Palmer to meet him; I was to ask him if he would like to go away, and if so he would find him the money—he gave me 3l. on that occasion—I arranged to meet him the next night at Islington—I went the next morning to Palmer's; they were not at home—on Friday, the 9th, I went according to appointment to Islington, to a shop there; I saw Adolphe—he asked me if I had seen Palmer—I said, "No, I could not find him"—I made an appointment for the following day, Saturday, at 6 o'clock, when I met him at Highbury Crescent—his brother Leon was with him—I had not succeeded in finding Palmer—I had left a message for him at his house—they asked me if I would go and try and find him—I said I did not think I could find him because he had left home; I said I could only go to his mother-in-law and make inquiries—I did go there and could not find him and came back; I left a message for his mother-in-law—then I went and joined the Weiners—I told Adolphe I had left the message for Palmer to meet him the next night—one of them said if he came there I was to ask him if I should take the money to him for him to go away or whether he would like to see Mr. Weiner—the following day, Sunday, Palmer came to South Kensington Station—I told him I had seen he Weiners—I asked him if he would like to go away, and if so Mr. Weiner would give him the money—I asked him whether I should bring him the money, or whether he would like to see Mr. Weiner himself—he said that he preferred to see Mr. Weiner himself—I made an appointment for him the following night for Palmer to meet the Weiners at a restaurant in the Seven Sisters Road at 7 o'clock—I went there; I was half an hour late, and when I went into the restaurant only Leon was there, excited—he said "You are late, my brother is looking for you"—then Adolphe came in—Adolphe said "Oh, it's all right, the little man is outside"—then he said to his brother "You make an appointment to meet your young lady, and I will go on to the Manor House with Mr. West, and you meet me there in half an hour"—Palmer went by the name of West—Leon made

an appointment to meet him in Oxford Street the following Wednesday—I went home after that—I did not see Palmer that night—the next day, the 13th, I went to my father in prison—I saw Palmer and Scanland in the Goswell Road—Palmer was in a tobacconist's; Scanland was standing speaking to some one—Leon had promised to meet me on the Wednesday night, but he did not come—I wrote the same night to Adolphe, and on the 15th he met me at Oxford Street in a restaurant—he said he had seen Palmer—I said "Is he going away?"—he said "I do not know, I asked him if he would like to go to America, and he said he didn't see why he should be drifted out of the country, so I gave him 50s., and told him to go to Hell"—I saw Adolphe and Leon again during April—they used to give me money every week—they used to make appointments to meet me at the Cafe Lombardo every week—that is in Eliza Place, Sadler's Wells—sometimes I saw Adolphe and sometimes Leon there—I received three letters there—Adolphe gave me money there for Counsel to defend father—he gave me once a 5l. note—Leon was there—I told him I did not like the note, and asked him if he would change it—he asked the proprietor if he could change it—I have seen him here—he changed it, and Adolphe gave me 6l.—Leon gave me 3l. or 8l. 10s.; it was all for Counsel for defending father—one letter was left there for me by Adolphe and two others—one contained 10s. in silver—the letters were addressed "Miss Percy"—I was brought up under the name of Percy—I did not tell him to give me that name; he did it of himself—in St. George's Road I was known as Denunzio—this is one of the letters. (From Milner Square, enclosing 10s., with no signature.) I do not know the writing—after I received the 10s. Adolphe asked me if I had received it—I said "Yes"—it alludes to a ticket which both the Weiners promised me to go to Rome—Adolphe and Leon lived at Milner Square—Jacoby gave me that as being their private address—this is the first letter that was left there; it relates to an appointment with Leon Weiner; it contained a 5s. order—"Everything will be ready for you" refers to my going to Rome—I know Mr. Purkis, the baker, of 21, Amwell Street, Goswell Road—Adolphe Weiner gave me this bill-head—he told me to write to him there in the name of J. W. Smith—that was the Saturday before the May Sessions of the Central Criminal Court, when father was to be tried—he asked me if I had enough money for the Counsel—I said I had not enough—he said "Well, I have not any money, you must damn Jacoby or Shepherd's Bush, I cannot give you any more"—Scanland was at Shepherd's Bush—I said I did not know the address of Jacoby—I was rather cross with him about what had occurred, and he said "Well, if I told a man to take a thing he is not obliged to do it"—I said "Well, if you had not shown him the place and tempted him he could not have done so"—that was when he gave me the bill-head—I told him I wanted 5l. more—I had to pay a little over 9l.—I wrote to the address on the bill-head four times—the case was adjourned till the next Session at father's request, and Bordman's, his solicitor—I made a statement to Mr. Bordman—I saw Langrish about a week after that—I found out that Jacoby had gone to High Street, Camden Town—I saw him there at a shop with "Jacobs and Co." over the door—on a Sunday at the end of May, and before the June Session, I went to Scanland at Shepherd's Bush—Margaret Ross went with me—I asked Scanland if he would let me have some of the money that he owed father—I said I had

not enough for Counsel to defend him—he said he could not; he had but 3d. in his pocket—he showed me his watch—he said it was no good—I said his brother had promised to send me some money when he got away which he owed father—he said Palmer was in the country very bad off, and he had to send him money—on the Sessions commencing, 1st June, my father was tried before Mr. Justice Hawkins—he was defended by Counsel—he was convicted and sentenced—the clothes he got from Newman's that he wore and his overcoat were given up to me and I pawned them—after the conviction I received these letters produced by post from Milner Square, signed "L. W.," making appointments, which I kept with Leon Weiner—in July I saw my father at the prison at Wormwood Scrubs—I cannot tell you how much money I received from the Weiners; they used to give me money every week to keep my father—the highest sum I received was 20l.; it was supposed to come from Adolphe, but Leon gave it to me—I received the note mentioned, and the rest in gold and postal orders—Adolphe used to tell me to tell my father to cut off his buttons, because Mr. Newman's name was on the buttons of his trousers.

Cross-examined byMR. KEMP. At the time I went to Tabak's I did not know my father contemplated robbing him, not till I came back—my father did not do anything for a living—he received money from his brother in Italy to my knowledge—he did not get his living by stealing—I had not previously made inquiries or watched shops for him—when he was in prison my mother kept me—I lived with my mother till I was between 15 and 16—she was a married woman—her name was not Denunzio—I had good friends in Italy—before Tabak's robbery I had been once to Rome—I have never spoken to Mr. Tabak—I have not gone to Adolphe Weiner crying, saying I had no one to assist my father, and that he was in trouble—I asked Adolphe to give me money, not on the first occasion but on the second—I did not tell him I had no one to whom I could apply, nor words to that effect—he wished me to write home to my friends in Italy, but I did not—I told him I had no friends in this country—he knew we had friends in Italy without asking me—I did not tell him if my father was convicted I did not know what could happen unless I could get to Italy, nor words to that effect—I swear it—I did not beg him to assist me to go to Italy—my father wished me to go to his friends—my father had no means, he was here and in prison—no money was sent me from Italy to take me there—I have not arranged to go as soon as this trial is over—I am not aware that I am going, I did not desire to go—I assented to please him—I have no occupation at present—I had occupation two years ago; my father has kept me—I did not tell Adolphe I was afraid of the police following me—he told me to be sure I was not followed when I went to see him—I did not ask him not to show my letters—he told me his wife opened one of his letters—I cannot say it was his housekeeper when he said his wife—he never said anything about his letters being seen—he was cross because I wrote to his private address, he told me his wife opened the letter—that was after I had been to the baker's—Jacoby gave me his address and I wrote to see if it was his address—I did not then know it—he told me he had removed from Dyer's Buildings some weeks—about a month after the robbery he told me—he said he had not got any place, he had gone to Hatton Garden—I I did not go, I believed he had left Dyer's Buildings—it was not at my

suggestion that the letters were left at the baker's—Leon gave me the 20l. in the Cafe Lombardo a few days after father had his trial—no person was present—it was all in gold—it was in a paper bag—it was about 4 o'clock in the afternoon in the ordinary customers' room, he waited there—only the proprietor and his sister were about; the proprietor sits in that room—I think I had tea, he had a cup of coffee and a cigar—a customer was sitting there—I have no writing which refers to the 20l.—I did not mention the 20l. at the police-court—I took it to Mr. Bordman—I said I could not remember how much was given to me altogether, I was not asked any particular sum—I remembered it just now when I was asked the largest sum—Weiner asked me to tell father to cut off the buttons every time I saw him, that was after father's arrest, when he was in prison.

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. My father had not told me why I was to view Tabak's house—he told me after I returned—I have never said I knew it before I went. (Deposition read: "I knew that my father was going to rob Tabak; I knew I was to go there to see if the place was safe to rob.") I did not say anything to that effect at the police-court—I suppose I used those words. (Read: "My father sent me there to see if what Weiner said was true, that is, if there was only one old man there"—"I knew they were going to rob Tabak because my father told me.") I can explain: Father and I were going up the Euston Road one day, my father said "Would you go to No. 6, to Mr. Tabak's, and ask him if he could tell me the address of a certain diamond merchant," and I went there and he asked me what sort of a man he was, and I said a little old man, and he said "That is the man Weiner wants me to rob"—"he, said "It is true, then, he is a little old man"—I did not know he was the man he was going to rob—on 19th March Adolphe came in first—Leon brought the rabbit with him—father took it from his hand, and took the bag in my bedroom—I said so at the police-court—I and my cousin afterwards walked with Leon a few yards to the corner of the street—Adolphe had gone—I did not go upstairs and have refreshments with Adolphe at the cafes—I did not have refreshment at the cafe in the Seven Sisters Road till Leon had gone, and that I paid for—Langrish and Bordman asked me to assist the police—they did not say anything about it being better for my father—I asked Mr. Langrish if it would benefit my father, and he said no, so I didn't tell him—I didn't say before the Magistrate "Mr. Degallow didn't say if I told the police it would benefit my father, Mr. Bordman told me that"—I said I never told Degallow anything—I didn't say Mr. Bordman told me if I assisted the police it would benefit my father—I said I thought myself if I told it would do him some good, but I never said they said so.

Cross-examined byMR. GRAIN. I knew Jacoby about eight years ago; it might be a little more—I was then about 15—the acquaintance was made through a friend of mine who introduced me, a young lady, outside our house in Central Street, St. Luke's—I was then with my mother—I went into the service of Jacoby's father and mother two years after; my father was still away—I remained in that service three months—I have told you I then became Jacoby's mistress, and he made me a promise of marriage about six years after he met me—I never lived with him; I always worked for myself—I heard of his marriage; he spoke to me about it as though he was sorry that he was engaged, and he said he

would have broken it off but he had gone too far—my father had been back for a year then—I introduced Jacoby to my father two or three days before Christmas, 1884; he had been home a few weeks—I had told my father about him—I do not know the month, but Jacoby was married last year; I heard of it shortly afterwards—I did not remonstrate with Jacoby for marrying; I didn't write to him—I said nothing, because I had broken off with him before—I went to Rome in January, 1885—we came through Paris on our way home—I have said we brought back some jewellery from Paris; it was pawned—I am not sure it was stolen; I had some idea—by "I always remonstrated with father" I meant not to do such things, not to commit crime—this is correct: "Father must have known perfectly well at that time" (that was when I went to Tabak) "that he was sending me on an improper errand"—I remonstrated with him before he went to Tabak's: I did not want him to do that robbery—of course I knew it all along—I told them I knew from the first because the first time that Jacoby told me of this intended robbery father told me about it, and I told him not to do it, to have nothing to do with it—that was before Christmas—I went to the house because I did not know the robbery was at the house at the time—I did not know I was to go for an improper purpose till I came back—on one occasion Jacoby was to come and see us; that was about a watch—he did come—the chloroform bottle contained about a quartern; it had a label on—I was there when Jacoby brought it—I saw him give something to father, but didn't see what it was; father showed it to me directly he had gone—it had a scent label; I do not recollect the name, but it was a scent label with the name of some bloom upon it—the bottle had a small cap; you could turn it upside down and get scent out without taking the cap off—there were flowers round the word "Bloom;" it was not an ordinary scent bottle—I know the rabbit was bought on 19th March because of my cousin's birthday; it was on Friday—I did not see the experiment—I did not know for what purpose it was bought till I came back—I had no idea—no one had asked for the rabbit to be bought to my knowledge—Jacoby brought the chloroform about a month after Christmas—the kitten was mine; I saw the test upon it—father tried it on several occasions before me with chloroform out of the same bottle that Jacoby had brought, sometimes the large one and sometimes the small—Jacoby gave him two smaller bottles and he put some into the small bottles out of the large one because the large one was too large to take about—he took the stopper right out—that was soon after he had the stuff—I saw him trying it with Adolphe—I never saw him trying, experiments with the kitten in the presence of Jacoby—my father and Jacoby never spoke of anything in front of me—his wife was generally present as well as myself—I heard none of the conversation about the chloroform except that I heard Jacoby say it was a trouble to get it—I never heard my father say anything about chloroform, and I did not know Jacoby's expression related to chloroform—the word chloroform was not used—I never asked Jacoby for money; he never gave me a halfpenny, he would not be likely to—I told Langrish I knew nothing as to who had helped my father; I did know—by telling Jacoby "if he relied upon it himself" I meant he should have done the robbery himself if he relied upon the robbery—Jacoby would not give any money away; he would sooner tell a lie and

say he had not got any—he said he would not take any to the prison—then I told him, "You shall be with him."

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I pawned some earrings at Vaughan's, in the Strand, the day my father came back from Paris—I knew my father had been abroad three or four days—I did not tell the pawnbroker my father had to leave France on account of political difficulties—I may have told him that my father gave me the earrings; I cannot remember—I pledged them in the name of Dufour—I suspected they were stolen; I had no doubt of it—it was in February when palmer paid father the 1l. he owed him; my father was then angry with Palmer, but not very—he wrote to him in a friendly way before Christmas; he wrote two friendly letters—I neither read nor wrote his letters; my father read them to me—Mrs. Palmer did not tell me the letters were destroyed; she said she had them—I was asked before the Magistrate if I sent one threatening letter—when Palmer came to me on 25th March and told me he had escaped by driving to Portland road, that was the first time he spoke to me about Tabak—the first time I saw my father in the house of Detention he said that Palmer was cross with him for letting me know about Tabak—I did not mention at the police-court about Palmers escape, I was not asked the question—I did not hoar any evidence in the Court; I came out directly I was examined—I have seen Mr. Notton, but have never spoken to him—somebody I do not know told me who he was, it was not Langrish, I believe it was some other witness—I also saw the cabman there—I heard the cabman tell Langrish who he was, but not about driving to Portland Read Station—I saw Mr. Sims several times; he put questions to me at the Treasury—I did not count them—I went back to St. George's Road about the 16th of April; two days afterwards they came to search the place-when the cab stopped I knew the police watched the house—I saw my father at Pentonville in the presence of a warder; I did not go with anybody—I went to Wormwood Scrubs with Langrish before the prisoners were arrested—I have paid two visits to my father while he was undergoing punishment—the first was the usual visit—I did not visit my father with Langrish after the prisoners were in custody—I should not mention the prisoners' names, father knows who they are; as a fact I did not. (Read: "I knew I was to go there to see if it was safe to rob Tabak.") My words were not put in that way at all.

Cross-examined byGEOGHEGAN. I once pawned a brooch in the Westminster Bride Road; that came from Paris—the Police did not interfere with the pawning—I do not know anything about Pike, of Bond Street-when Palmer conversed with me about Scanland, Scanland was not present—I went to Scanland for the money he owed latter, 2l.—I did not ask him to give me anything—the first time father went to Paris I stopped at Scanland's house—father called there twice, once with his wife, the night they went to paris, and once he came to pay me some money—I said at the second examination at the police-court that scanland said he was sorry he could not do more for father and could not help him better—langrish had not spoken to me about scanland that I remember—I said "Since I gave evidence last week I have seen inspector langrish; I will not swear he did not speak to me about scanland"—I could not be sure—I remembered about scanland being sorry he could not do more for father as I was leaving Hunter

Street Police-station—I saw the inspector there who took the charge, not Langrish, but Langrish was present all the time—I saw my father twice while the case was at the police-court in the presence of two warders—the interviews were not long; we spoke in English.

He-examined. My father told me to be sure and not touch the chloroform, and I never touched it; I did not smell it—father begged me not to tell who had helped him—Jacoby took me to his father and mother, where I was servant; he was living in the house; it was there he promised me marriage—it was after that I became his mistress and was intimate with him, but he never maintained me—when I left I worked at 49, Fann Street, at a business, and earned my own living for six consecutive years—I used to meet Jacoby then—I left Fann Street because my father took me to Rome after he came out of prison—I worked there two months after we came home—father came and told Mr. Lewis where I was going, and he said I might go back whenever I pleased—while I was working in this way I lived by myself, meeting Jacoby from time to time—the engagement was broken off because father could see he was not treating me properly—I never had any presents; he never wrote to me; I lived too near to him—father wrote to him and sent him back his photograph—that was before his other engagement in 1875.

JULIUS TABAK . I am a diamond merchant, at 5, Belgrave Street, Euston Road—I have lived there 22 years with my wife; a servant named Utting lived with us—I know the Weiners; they both came to my house to buy about November last—my safe is in my office on the first floor—I took a lot of diamonds out of my safe and showed them; they understood diamonds—some bonds were in the safe in the bottom drawer with some diamonds—the best diamonds are kept in the safe—I had seen the Weiners before, in Hatton Garden—I knew they were diamond merchants; I did not know their address—I had no correspondence with them—the daughter of Toussaint came and spoke to me about Christmas last—on Wednesday, 24th March, Toussaint came upstairs to see me with Palmer—I opened the door—they asked to see some diamonds—I showed them the diamonds—they selected about 700l. worth, and went away saying they would call in the afternoon, they had come from Paris—they showed me a large piece of paper, a bill like that (produced)—I did not see them in the afternoon; I expected them about 5 o'clock—a piano was being moved in—I had bought it for my wife at a sale—I received this letter saying they could not come till the next morning, when they came I showed them also 80 carat diamonds for a bracelet—Toussaint picked some out; Palmer was behind me—I was struck twice on the back of my head and face with something hard—I put up both my hands, which were seriously injured, and one of my fingers very seriously damaged—I went to take the diamonds, and Palmer gave me a blow with both hands, and they took the packets of diamonds and loose diamonds away, leaving their hats on the table—I fell insensible—a doctor came—Toussaint was brought back in custody—my head was bandaged—I was seriously ill, and attended by the doctor for a long time—the total value of things carried away was about 1,400l.—about 700l. worth have been restored; also the pliers.

Cross-examined byMR. BESLEY. I have owned the safe 22 years—it has always been in the same room—Adolphe came once or twice in November, and offered me money and to take credit—I did not carry

out that bargain—Leon was with him on both occasions—they came one week, and then the week after—I cannot say if they came in January or December.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I did not know the two men who came on 24th March—Langrish showed me a photograph once like this one produced with marks and signs about it—I saw from it Palmer had been convicted—I afterwards picked Palmer out from a row of men.

Re-examined. It was the Fifth Passover Day, a day in April, when I saw the photograph—I fainted; I fell back, because I knew it—I could pick him out amongst hundreds—in August I picked him out at the police-court—I have no doubt Palmer is the man who struck me.

ELEANOR TABAK . I am the wife of the last witness; I live with him—I was at home on 24th March, about 11 a.m.—Mr. Tabak answered the door—afterwards the maid answered the door—I saw two men pass the house and come to the house—I saw them in the hall—I told them Mr. Tabak was not at home; the men were Palmer and Denunzio—the next day I saw them pass the window—they went upstairs—afterwards I heard a scrambling and moving of chairs and feet—I heard my husband scream—I rushed through the dining-room door and into the hall—two men passed me and went straight out at the street door—I called for the maid and screamed for help—the maid went after them, and I went to my husband's assistance: he was bleeding fast—I have no doubt Palmer is one of the men who called on both those days—I afterwards saw in the room two hats and a life preserver—one hat had a mourning band like the one produced—I saw that on the table—I gave it to the police.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I gave a description of the men to the police—Langrish showed me Palmer's photograph, and to Mr. Tabak—we both recognised it—that was before Toussaint was convicted—Mr. Tabak fainted, and I did not see much of the photograph; I could not tell you what was round it—I picked out the next man to Palmer; I could not identify him at the time, but I did pick him out—I said "That is very much like Palmer"—I cannot remember whether the man I picked out had a beard and whiskers, I have had so much to go through—I saw Palmer in the dock with the other prisoners; then I recognised him—I could not recognise him at 7 in the morning—I said it was a short man.

SARAH UTTING . I live at 57, Park street, Southwark Bridge—I was servant to Mr. and Mrs. Tabak—there was a cook there—about Christmas I opened the door to Toussaint's daughter—on Wednesday, 24th March, I remember two men coming, one is the convict—they went upstairs into the office where Mr. Tabak was—in about three-quarters of an hour they left the house; about 11 they came back; then Mr. Tabak had gone out; I said Mr. Tabak would be in about 3; I called Mrs. Tabak—the following day the two men came again, and they went upstairs into the office where Mr. Tabak was—after some time I heard noises and a scream, and the men running downstairs—I was on the kitchen floor—I ran upstairs; I saw Mrs. Tabak on the stairs calling out; the men were then running away—I followed them to the top of Belgrave Street—one went one way and one another—they had no hats on—I followed the one who is the convict to the left down Chesterfield Street—a man caught hold of my right arm—I had no bonnet—I wrenched my arm from him and still kept running—he asked me what

was the matter—I said if he stopped the man I would tell him—I called out "Stop him"—he was stopped by a policeman—I told the policeman what had occurred—Mrs. Tabak saw him—the hats and things were given up to the police; the convict was taken into custody—I gave the police a description of the other man—in August I was taken to the police-station and saw Palmer—I could not swear to him—I do not identify the man who stopped me; I was very much excited.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I was called as a witness in September—I was shown a photograph.

STEPHEN CHAPMAN (Policeman G 61). I stopped Toussaint running on 25th March and brought him back to Tabak's house; on the way I met Utting—at Tabak's I was given two hats and a life-preserver—I took them and Toussaint to the police-station—I was present when this hat was put on Toussaint—it fitted him—I searched Toussaint—I found this contract note and this French billhead and this list of the sailings of the Canard steamers—he was detained in custody.

Cross-examined byMR. GEOGHEGAN. Utting did not complain to me at the time of a man stopping her—she did afterwards at Bow Street.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I did not notice the name on the bill, nor the writing inside.

JOHN SHIPLEY . I am a cab driver, of 14, Bowling Green Street—on Thursday, 25th March, a little after 10 a.m., I was with my cab on the rank in St. Pancras Road, near the St. Pancras Railway-station—I saw a man in my cab as I was putting the nosebag on my horse—he had no hat on—he told me to drive to Portland Road Station—he was in an exhausted state when I saw him, near the Midland Grand Hotel—he paid me 1s. fare, and walked across the road, through the station, and across the road over the way—he wore a long, dark, ribbed coat, tight, buttoned up.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. He had got in and shut the door when he gave me directions—I was on the last cab on the rank of the "Midland Grand Hotel—I was not able to pick out Palmer—I saw Miss Toussaint at the police-court; I never spoke to her, nor she to me.

HENRY THOMAS NOTION . I am a hatter, of 43, Hampstead Road—I was in my shop on 25th March—between 9 and 10 o'clock Palmer came without a hat—he said he was a cabman, and had lost his hat the previous evening, when he was out late, at Haverstock Hill, he must have gone to sleep on his box—I was taking the goods from the window when he entered on the Thursday morning; I never do so any other day; the hats were strewn about—he bought one very quickly, he paid, and went—I saw him next in custody.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. He was a stranger—my son was in the shop—Sergeant Fraser called the next week—I saw Langrish at the police-court—I did not see Palmer's photograph.

Re-examined. My shop is about 500 or 600 yards from the Portland Road Station—Whitfield Street is on the other side, a short distance.

BARNARD JACOB NEWMAN . I am a tailor, of 98, Strand—I have known the two Weiners as customers for 10 or 12 years—I knew they lived in Dyer's Buildings—on 27th February Denunzio came to my shop and ordered some clothes; it was a complete suit and overcoat, value 8l.—he mentioned the Weiners' name as a reference; he deposited 2l.—I afterwards

saw the Weiners at their office; I said a party named Denunzio bad given me an order to the amount of 8l., and asked them what kind of a man he would be for credit—they said they believed him to be a respectable man, and that he would pay when he had it, but he was out of work just then—I cannot remember which spoke—I determined to let him have them—the clothes were sent home to 115, St. George's Road on 6th March—I was not paid the balance—I afterwards saw an account of his arrest—I saw the Weiners about it more than once—I said, "I suppose I have lost this money?"—one of them said, as it was their reference, and knowing me so long, they would not like me to lose the money, and would make it up for me—I afterwards received a ring from Leon in the street; he said, "I will give you the ring" (there is another account against them), "put that to the account"—I put it to Denunzio's account—the value of the ring was taken at 4l.—I went to Dyer's Buildings frequently—one day I had been waiting in Holborn, I saw Denunzio with the Weiners; I never saw him with any one else except his daughter—Denunzio told me to tell Adolphe he was waiting for him at the cafe with two friends—that was about midway between the time he had the clothes and his arrest—I do not know which cafe he meant—the clothes I supplied were shown to me at Bow Street—my name was stamped on the buttons.

Cross-examined byMR. BESLEY. I saw Toussaint's daughter with him—he was described as a designer in the arrangement of stones in brooches, necklaces, and ornaments—I cannot give you the date when I told Adolphe I supposed I should make that loss.

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. I could not say which account Leon told me to put the ring to; I put it to Toussaint's account because I wanted to clear that off first—I believe Leon assists his brother in the business.

Re-examined. I spoke of the man in custody and the amount that was due to me—it was on that account Leon gave me the ring; he said I was not to lose anything by that man.

Wednesday, November 3rd, and Thursday, 4th.

EMMA BRADFORD . I live at 123, Whitfield Street, Tottenham Court Road—I have the letting of No. 121—I let two rooms of No. 121 to Palmer as Mr. West—I knew him and his wife—he gave me a very good reference to 202, Euston Road—he stopped at the rooms three weeks or a month; I could not say the date, it was about March—he said he was a waiter—I understood he left to go to some situation in the country—I saw Denunzio's daughter once—the rent was weekly; I called for it.

MARGARET ROSS . I am Toussaint's niece—I live at 47, East Surrey Grove, Peckham—in February and March I visited my uncle and cousin at 115, St. George's Road—I remember being there on a Sunday, the end of February—I saw Jacoby there—my birthday is 13th March; this year it was on a Saturday—I was at my uncle's the following Friday, the 19th, with my cousin Elena—my cousin and Adolphe Weiner came in about 5 p.m.—Miss Denunzio was carrying a bag like that produced—it was hung on the bedpost in my cousin's room—afterwards Leon came—my cousin and I were told to go for a walk—we were out about three-quarters of an hour—when we knocked they were a little time opening the door—we went into the parlour—I noticed the windows were left

open—Leon and Denunzio were there—after a little time Leon Weiner, Mr. Denunzio, and my cousin and aunt, left—I walked with Leon some little way, and then returned to the house—uncle (Toussaint) asked me if I would like a rabbit, and I said "Yes"—he then gave me a live rabbit with a skin like that produced—it was in this bag; I took it home in the bag—the rabbit was cooked and eaten, and the skin preserved; I have kept it ever since—I gave the bag and the skin up to the police—I was there on Sunday, 21st March—I saw there Palmer, his wife, and her sister, about 9 p.m.—I was there in the afternoon; I did not see the prisoners there then—I did not see Jacoby there after February—after uncle was in custody I went to Shepherd's Bush with my cousin Elena, to Scanland's house.

MARGARET REID . The convict Denunzio and his daughter lodged with me at 115, St. George's Road, for about 12 months—I remember Miss Denunzio taking her things away in a cab on Thursday, 25th March—four weeks, rent were due—I next saw her on the following Sunday, and then on the Monday—she paid me the 2l. 12s. due—on 6th April she came back to live—I fancied I saw Palmer, but I am not sure—I saw the rabbit.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. I opened the door to Denunzio's visitors at first; they afterwards did it themselves—Langrish did not call till Miss Denunzio came back to live with us, nor any police officer.

ISABELLA REID . I live at 115, St. George's Road—I was living there when Denunzio lived there with his daughter—I saw Palmer there two or three times—a message was left in February—I cannot say who called with it—I gave it to Denunzio—after Christmas an alteration was made in the terms, and they answered the door—on one occasion before Christmas I waited at dinner—a man and woman, strangers, dined there with Denunzio.

ALFRED WILKIE . I am employed at Mrs. Cox's umbrella shop, 11, Newington Butts, near the Elephant and Castle—we sell life preservers at 9d. each—a man called in March and bought two—Palmer is very much like the man—I gave a description to Langrish.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. It was some time about gas-light—I was standing between the counter and a bench—the man was in front of the counter, facing Mrs. Cox—he was alone—the shop is small—I was unable to recognise any of the men shown me at the police-court—I said before the Magistrate "The man was something like the prisoner Palmer"—my belief has not increased since Langrish fetched me after my mistress had been to the police-station on 6th September—I did not see Mrs. Cox there.

Re-examined. Mrs. Cox served the man—he went in the direction of the Walworth Road.

ELIZABETH COX . I carry on business at 11, Newington Butts—I served a man with two life preservers—I cannot say who he was.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. Langrish came to my shop—the boy was not there—in consequence of what he said I went to the police-court—I did not give Langrish a description, of the man who called—I failed to recognise any one—I heard Wilkie give Langrish a description afterwards—after that Wilkie went to the station—the man bought the life-preservers towards evening—I stand near the window to serve—the man was alone.

THOMAS JAMES GAMBLE . I am a leather-seller, of 38, Walworth Road—my shop is about 100 yards from Cox's—I sell gutta-percha—a man speaking with a foreign accent bought about a shilling's worth of gutta-percha some time in March—it was different conversation to a shoemaker buying—I think it was the convict—gutta-percha is plastic when warm, and gets hard again when cold.

Cross-examined. I said at the police-court I recollected the convict to the best of my belief—that is my recollection now—my house does not face Mrs. Cox's shop, that is in the next road.

JOSEPH WILSON . I live at 2, Oakley Street, Waterloo Road—I deal in live stock—in March last Jacoby came to my shop and asked me the price of a rabbit—it was outside—I told him the price was 2s. 6d. or 2s. 9d.—he went away—afterwards I saw three or four men outside my shop—Jacoby returned that day and bought the rabbit—I think he paid me 2s. 9d.—it was a doe, with a skin like that produced—he took it away in a bag like that—we call it a seed bag—we lend them—he deposited 3d. or 6d. for it—the bag was not returned to my knowledge—Jacoby did not return.

Cross-examined byMR. BROWN. I believe it was on a Monday.

HENRY COOPER . I live at the Prince of Wales beerhouse, 8, Short's Buildings, St. James's Walk, opposite the House of Detention, Clerken-well—it was a portion of the business of that house to supply prisoners in the House of Detention with food—one Saturday in March Jacoby came—my mistress, Mrs. Lee, was in the bar—Jacoby had some conversation with her which I did not hear—he handed Mrs. Lee a paper—he was in the house about five minutes, between 9 and 10 p.m.—afterwards Mr. Lee told me to deliver some things at the House of Detention—I applied the things to Toussaint.

MARY ANN LEE . In March last my husband occupied the Prince of Wales beerhouse, opposite the House of Detention, Clerkenwell—on a Saturday evening in March, Jacoby came and ordered some food to be delivered to Toussaint, a prisoner—he gave me half-a-sovereign wrapped in a piece of paper—that paid for food up to the following Thursday—from that time Miss Denunzio came and paid for it.

JANE KOCH . I am the wife of William Joseph Koch, a cabinet-maker, of 202, Euston Road—on 25th July last year Palmer came with his wife and took two rooms as Mr. and Mrs. West at the top of the house—they continued to live there until 18th March last—amongst the visitors I saw Toussaint and his daughter and Scanland, whom I knew as West—he was supposed to be their brother—he was there oftener than the Toussaint's—Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Palmer's sister, came several times—I remember Scanland losing his child—I knew when Palmer left he was going to Whitfield Street.

Cross-examined byMR. PERCELL. Toussaint nearly always came with his daughter—I told Toussaint twice Palmer was not at home.

GEORGE FOWLER , I am assistant to Mr. John A. Thompson, a pawn-broker, of 45, Drummond Street, Euston Road—I produce a Chesterfield overcoat pledged with me on 26th March last for 11s. in the name of Roberts, of 22, Greek Street, Soho, by a woman—this is the ticket.

PETER PUNCIL . I keep the Cafe Lombardo, at Eliza Place, Sadler's Wells—I saw Elena Denunzio at my cafe, also Adolphe and Leon Weiner—on one occasion I saw them together—I remember two letters being

left for the girl; I gave them to her—one contained money—there was a coin in it—I changed a 5l. bank note for Adolphe—I believe I gave it to him—there is a room at the back into which my customers can go.

Cross-examined byMR. BESLEY. I saw Miss Denunzio two or three times after I changed the note—I believe she was at the cafe alone—Langrish brought her to me on a Friday, I think the day before I was at the police-court—I went to the Court six times—he brought her to my place—he asked me if I knew her.

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. I could not say how many times I saw them at the cafe; they seemed to be friendly.

LAURA PURKIS . I keep a baker's shop at 21, Amwell Street, Pentonville—late in April or early in May, Adolphe and Leon called—Adolphe asked me to take in letters in the name of Smith—I did not care to do it at first, but he said he lived in Claremont Square, and his landlady opened his letters—I gave Adolphe a bill-head with my name and address on it—he took it away with him—he called several times—there were letters for about a fortnight—I dare say a letter came and remained some time uncalled for—when he came I asked him to have no more sent.

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. I swear to Adolphe—to the best of my belief Leon is the other man—I do not think I am mistaken.

CHARLES FERRIRI . I live at 24, Great James Street, Bedford Row—I am the proprietor of the billiard-room, Theobald's Tavern, in the Theobald's Road—I am sometimes in the bar of the house—I have since heard the names of the prisoners; I have seen, Leon and Jacoby—I saw them in the bar with a female and two other men; they remained from a quarter to half an hour—they left together—I cannot fix the date; it was in the summer time.

GEORGE MILLS (Policeman D 30). The prisoner Palmer came to the Tottenham Court Road Police-station to report himself in that name on the 27th of each month; his address was 202, Euston Road—I saw him when he came on 27th March—I have this paper to refresh my memory that I initialled his report—he gave me the address, 123, Whitfield Street—his next report would be 27th April.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. The report of a robbery is circulated to the London police-stations—I have no knowledge of his reporting in April, and being kept an hour and a half—"G. or "Geo." Mills "is my signature.

Re-examined, As near as I recollect he reported himself about 9.15 a.m.

HENRY SCEELS (Policeman DR 4). I am stationed at the Tottenham Court Road Police-station—it is usual to give notice if a convict who has to report leaves England—this letter was received, signed "J. Palmer," on 22nd April, by post—I do not know the writing—Palmer's report was due on the 27th.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. A convict may report himself to any officer—the report is forwarded to the superintendent of the division as soon as the report is made—I do not remember Palmer coining on 12th April, saying he had got a situation to go with a gentleman on the Continent, and refusing to give his name and address—there would be an entry at the station if such a thing occurred—the reports would be sent on to the Convict Office—such an entry would be found there—an officer receiving a report of a convict would have an eye to the descriptions circulated—

here are two day and two night inspectors at Tottenham Court Road—I cannot give their names for April—I know Robinson; he is stationed at Marylebone—he would look alter Palmer; he was the local inspector.

Re-examined. If a man does not report himself, the police try to find him—a full report is made and sent to the Convict Office that he failed to report—a change of address is also reported; if that is not reported inquiry is made.

GEORGE ROBERTS . I live at 3, Fairbank Street, City Road—I have been in employ of the London Gas Light and Coke Company, also at the Vestry of St. Leonards, Shoreditch—I am foreman of the Hoxton District and foreman of the Shoreditch Vestry—14 years ago Adolphe's brother Samuel lodged at my house—I knew Adolphe then—I remember Adolphe coming to my house in November last, on a Sunday morning, I was alone—he asked if I was confidential, so I said "What might your case be?"—he said "Well, I know of an old gentleman that has got about 30,000l. worth of diamonds, and if I could get another man, and bring him to his place at Dyer's Buildings, Holborn, he would take us where the diamonds are to be found"—the man was to saturate the handkerchief with chloroform and to put it over the old gentleman's mouth, I was to take the diamonds and bring them to his place at Dyer's Buildings; Holborn, and he said "If you do as I tell you you won't have to do any more lamp-lighting"—so I said "You must be out of your mind to ask me to do such a thing"—he said "Then you'll not do it?"—I said "No; not for any money"—he wished me good morning and went away—before he went my wife came into the room, he wished her good morning—I made inquiries of my wife.

Cross-examined byMR. BESLEY. I hare been 19 years at work for the Vestry and for the Gas Company together; 11 years for the Gas Company, and eight years for St. Leonards, Shoreditch—the Gas Company pay me—I ceased to be in their service eight years I still belong to the sick club—I have said "It is nine or ten years ago since Samuel Weiner lived with me," and "or rather 13 or 14 years," I corrected it afterwards—I might have said it when I came to study and reckon it up a bit—I said, "Samuel was with us two years or two and a half years continuously in Primrose Street, Bishopsgate," and "he was not with us in any other house," and from the time we left the house in Primrose Street he never lived with us—he ceased to live with us 13 or 14 years ago—that is the date of our moving to 8, Fairbanks Street, about a mile and a half from our former lodgings—all that time Samuel and Adolphe had no communication with me—I was in the Company's service; I had good wages—I have houses on lease at 46l. a year, and make a profit out of the rentals—I am a hard-working man and have to bring up a family respectable—I keep the North London Dental Depot; you don't suppose I could have half a dozen houses on 27s. a week for lamp lighting—I supply artificial teeth to the dentists—you did not ask at the police-court if I was in any other occupation—I was asked how much I had a week, and I told Mr. Grain—I was not asked many questions about my position—I was asked about the houses—one brother came to see Samuel at Primrose Street—I never made any note of Adolphe's proposal—I knew Adolphe lived in Dyer's Buildings through Samuel—I had spoken to Samuel once or twice during the 13 or 14 years—he kept a shop; I knew no office—I received a letter from Langrish

(Looking for papers) I have not got that first letter; you say the September letter—I think it was September I received the first—Langrish was out of court when I first gave my evidence—Mr. Bridge asked me if I received a letter from Langrish—I said I gave it to Langrish and he tore it up—I was seen to speak to Langrish as I went out of the Court and he came in—when I returned I admitted to Mr. Bridge that I had said to Langrish as he was passing, "You tore up the letter. Q.—I ask you whether that admission to Mr. Bridge was not after you had over and over again sworn you never uttered a syllable to Langrish? A.—I might have said so. The first communication of the November interview with Adolphe was made after the letter from Langrish—I read in the papers in April, I think, about the attack on Tabak—I am not sure when I heard of it—I did not say to Mr. Bridge that when I read the account I I thought it was the old gentleman that was mentioned in the conversation with me in November—I never said, "When I first saw this case in the paper I did not go and tell the police of Adolphe Weiner's suggestion, although it struck me Tabak was the same old man that Adolphe had referred to"—Mr. Grain put those questions to me if I made a report to the police of it, and I said no—I cannot say for certain whether I said it; I know the question was put to me—I might have said it—I never used the expression, "I thought it was the same old man that Adolphe Werner had spoken about; "you made that remark—I had not been to the police till I received Langrish's letter; he left me a letter to go to Bow Street—I went to Bow Street; I was ordered to—it was before I had seen Langrish that I went to Weiner's house—I said, "I went to Samuel Weiner's house on Pentonville Hill; I went to Samuel Weiner to see if it was his brother who was in trouble"—that was before Langrish's letter was destroyed—I did not say I told the servant what my business was—I said when I saw the servant I wanted to know from Mr. Samuel Weiner whether it was his brother that was in trouble—I did not say that to the servant—the servant asked me to make an appointment, and said Mr. Weiner was out; I left my card—I did not go again—I did not go to Adolphe Weiner's at all—I went to Samuel Weiner's out of curiosity.

JOHN LANGRISH (Inspector E). On 25th March I saw the convict Denunzio in custody at the Hunter Street Police-station—I saw the papers produced there and the contract note containing the name of Weiner at Dyer's Buildings, in consequence of which I went to Dyer's Buildings—I saw Adolphe and Leon there upstairs—I said, addressing Adolphe, "Is your name Mr. Weiner?"—he said, "Yes"—I had the ticket; I said, "I called to see you in reference to a pawnbroker's contract note and to a man who is in custody at Hunter Street Police-station"—Leon then appeared from the workshop at the back; I requested him to remain till I had spoken—I asked them to accompany me to Hunter Street police-station on account of the contract note bearing their name and the address of their offices—they went with me—I showed them the contract note—I asked them if they had any idea of the person who had mentioned their name—they said a man had called representing himself to be a designer, and wanted them to purchase a ticket of a pair of earrings in pledge; they took the ticket, saw the earrings, but they did not suit them, and consequently they did not purchase the ticket—they said they went to see the earrings at the pawnbroker's and

the ticket was made out in their name—this was about midday—they saw the convict at Hunter Street—they recognised him as being the designer who had called on them with the ticket, and that they had never seen him before—I requested the Weiners to accompany me to Tabak's house—they went with me and Tabak saw them; he was very unwell—he made no charge against them concerning the robbery, and I allowed them to go—the convict was committed for trial—three men were arrested on 30th March by Inspector Kelly; they were not taken before the Magistrate; failing identification they were let off—I have been engaged in tracing the persons connected with the robbery from the beginning, and have watched at the House of Detention—on 2nd April I saw Elena Denunzio visit there, and afterwards go to the public-house opposite—on 3rd April, after she had been to the House of Detention, I followed her to St. George's Road—on 6th April I saw her arrive in a cab with her luggage—I took the number of the cab—on 7th April I searched her lodgings; I found nothing connected with this case—on 12th April I got some information from her about the matter—on 20th April I showed Palmer's and Scanland's photographs to Mr. and Mrs. Tabak; Mr. Tabak identified Palmer—I knew Palmer had to report himself—I communicated with the police at the Tottenham Court Road—between 1st and 6th May I obtained information from Mr. Bordman—Mr. Bordman handed me some statements; in consequence of one of them on 7th May I saw Miss Denunzio; she gave me certain information—on 26th June, after the trial and conviction of the convict, I watched Scanland's house at Shepherd's Bush—I saw Scanland go to 23, Rathbone Place, Oxford Street—at that time I did not know where Palmer was—on 10th July I followed Scanland from Shepherd's Bush to Bedford Row, to the Queen's Head in Theobald's Road—on 23rd July I saw the convict at Wormwood Scrubs; I accompanied his daughter there—he gave me information—on 11th August I got information where Palmer was—on 12th August I went in company with another officer to 46, Georgina Street, College Street, Camden Town—I said to Palmer "I am a police officer, I shall charge you with being a person under police supervision having failed to comply with the law, namely, by notifying your change of address"—I took him to Hunter Street Station—I said "I believe your name is Scanland"—he said "No, you are mistaken"—I believe that is Palmer's name—I produced his photograph—he said "No, you are mistaken, it is very easy to make a mistake"—I searched his place; I found these five letters, a washing bill from Philadelphia, and a photograph of himself taken at New Jersey in America (produced)—also the card of an American Passenger Agency, some jewellery, clothes, and a wedding ring—with regard to the ring he said "Let her have that, we are going to get married shortly," meaning the woman he had been living with at 23, Rathbone Place—the woman was in the room with him when I arrested him at 6 a.m.—I know her as Angelina—I took Palmer away in custody to Hunter Street—I left two officers with Angelina with instructions she was not to leave till I came back—I sent for Mr. Tabak to see Palmer—I afterwards sent instructions to arrest Jacoby—I telegraphed to arrest Scanland—I went to 6, Dyer's Buildings—I saw Adolphe—I asked if his brother was in—his brother appeared—I told them both I should take them into custody for attempting to murder Mr. Tabak on 25th March, and stealing diamonds to the value of 2,000l.

or thereabouts—they made no answer—I searched Adolphe—I found pawnbrokers' tickets for jewellery and contract notes—some wore in his own name—I did not search Leon—both were taken to the police-station—Jacoby and Scanland were afterwards brought there in custody—I went and searched the private address of the Weiners at Milner Square on 16th August—I found nothing relating to the matter—I read the charge to all five together at the station—they said nothing—they were taken before the Magistrate at Bow Street and sent for trial.

Cross-examined byMR. BESLEY. I first heard of the attack on Tabak about noon on 25th March—Toussaint was searched before I arrived—I was sent for to investigate the matter, and I looked over the papers and discovered the contract note—the things were handed to me as having been taken from him—I wished to speak to Toussaint, and I asked him what his name was—he professed not to speak English, and I did not say anything further to him—I got to Weiner's about 1 o'clock—it was my duty to exhaust the clue of the piece of paper found on Toussaint, or any other clue—I took no note of the conversation with Adolphe Weiner—there was no repetition of the conversation when Leon came in; he was there all the time—Adolphe wanted to push his way out, but the sergeant who was with me asked him to remain—I was in communication with Toussaint's solicitor's clerk, Degallow, before the trial—I only went to see Toussaint on 23rd July, 19th August, and 3rd September—all were in custody on 12th August.

Cross-examined byMR. PURCELL. The convict was not the informant of the three men taken on 13th March—I did not follow Miss Denunzio to Whitfield Street, but to 115, St. George's Road—I did not show the photographs to Tabak in consequence of Miss Denunzio's information—to a certain extent it was in consequence of information from a convict in prison—Miss Denunzio's information did not lead me to procure Palmer's photograph—I did not tell you the convict's name at the police-court—from 1st June to 21st July I saw Miss Denunzio nearly every day at the police-station and at her lodgings—Mr. Batchelor was with me on 19th August—the prisoners' names were not mentioned to Toussaint to my knowledge other than by Mr. Batchelor at any interview after Toussaint was in custody—I did not say before the Magistrate that their names were mentioned to Toussaint by Miss Denunzio—I was informed of the descriptions left at the police station on 25th March—it was after that I took Adolphe to see if he was the man who struck Tabak.

Cross-examined byMR. GEOGHEGAN. The Magistrate; allowed Scanland to go out on his own recognizance's—I did not go with the convict to the various places he had mentioned—I know he went round to them.

Re-examined. I made a list of the pawnbrokers' tickets found on the Weiners—this is the list (produced).

By theJURY. I got Scanland's photograph from the Convicts Office—I never told Miss Denunzio that if she did not make a clean breast of it I should place her in the dock.

ByMR. PURCELL. I impressed upon miss Denunzio the necessity of keeping from the convict—I never saw them together.

GEORGE WEIDNER (Sergeant E Division). I was watching the House of Detention after 26th April—I saw the daughter of Toussaint there in April—on 12th August I went with Langrish to 46, Georgina Street,

Camden Town, at 6 a.m.—Palmer was arrested—then we went and took Leon Weiner into custody at 6, Dyer's Buildings—Langrish told him the charge; he made no reply; he was searched—some stones were found on him, 12 diamonds, 14 rubies, four saphires, and some pawn-tickets and contract notes of pawnings in July, 1886, in the name of "Leon" and "Mr. Weiner."

Cross-examined byMR. BROMBY. I have kept them ever since.

CHARLES DREW (E Division). On 12th August I went to Shepherd's Bush about 10.30 a.m.—I saw the woman Angelina and a little girl coming along the Uxbridge Road—I followed them to Scanland's house—Angelina remained about five minutes, and came out with Scanland—Weidner arrested him—he was told he would be taken into custody for being concerned with others in an attempted murder, and stealing a quantity of diamonds—he said "I was going to get Counsel for my brother"—I took him back to the house, and then to the police-station—he was searched—nothing was found on him relating to the charge.

JAMES SCANDRETT (Police Sergeant). On 12th of August, after the arrest of Palmer, I went to Jacoby's shop, 95, High Street, Camden Town—I said "Mr. Jacoby?"—he said "Yes"—I said "I am a police officer, and am going to take you into custody for being concerned with others in custody for attempting to murder, and stealing about 2,000l. worth of diamonds from Mr. Tabak"—he said "You are not going to take me"—I said "I am; you had better put on your hat and coat, and not cause any commotion"—he said "Will you allow me to go upstairs and see my wife?"—I allowed him to do so—at the bottom of the stairs he said "If I am going to be made the dupe of others I shall have to say what I know about it."

Adolphe and Leon Weiner received good characters.

ADOLPHE— GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

LEON— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude, and each to pay 50 l. to Mr. Tabak.

JACOBY— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

PALMER— GUILTY .

He thenPLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony at this Court in March, 1879.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.

SCANLAND— GUILTYof robbery without violence.He then

PLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction at Middlesex Sessions in August, 1876.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

NEW COURT.—Monday, November 1st, 1886.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-1048

1048. JACOB MYERS (45) was indicted for wilful and corrupt perjury in swearing at Worship Street Police-court that he did not keep a brothel.

1049. WILLIAM VOSS and WILLIAM GOOD PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining by false pretences a quantity of whisky, value2l. 9s., with intent to defraud.— To enter into their own recognisance in 20l. to come up for judgment if called upon.

Reference Number: t18861025-1050

1050. EDWIN TAYLOR (21), JAMES GAYHAM (20), and ALFRED HUTCHINSON (20) , Robbery with Violence on James Crecy, and stealing 1l., his money.

MR. WILKINSONProsecuted.

JOHN CRECY . I am a seaman, and am living at the Sailors' Home, Wells Street, Whitechapel—on October 9th, between 9 and 10 p.m., I was in George Street, Whitechapel, and the three prisoners rushed on me, dragged me into a court, and the middle one put his hands into my outside coat-pocket, from which I afterwards missed a sovereign, which I had there loose—one said "Have you got it?" and they said "Yes," and two of them ran away, but I held Taylor till a constable took him—I afterwards picked Gayham out from a lot of strange people at the station, and on the Sunday night I went there again and picked out Hutchinson.

Cross-examined by Taylor. You did not offer to send for a constable, you struggled with me—I had no money on me but the sovereign, and I said I had lost 20s.—sailors always call a sovereign 20s.—you held me while the other two robbed me.

CHARLES VOKES (Policeman H 114). I was on duty and saw Crecy, struggling with Taylor, who I had seen frequently during the evening, and just before the struggle I saw him with the other two prisoners—I ran up and asked Crecy if he had lost anything—he said "Yes, I have been robbed, and that is the man who robbed me," pointing to Taylor—Taylor said "What! me?"—Crecy said "Yes, you are the man who robbed me"—I took him in custody; he struggled some minutes, and while on the ground another constable came up, and he was taken to the station—Gayham was brought in about half an hour afterwards, and Hutchinson was taken by me and a sergeant on the Sunday night—Crecy picked them out without hesitation—Crecy was sober.

Cross-examined by Taylor. I saw you drag Crecy down the court.

JOSEPH ROSKELLY (Policeman H 9). I was at the station when Taylor was brought in—Crecy described two other men, and I went in search of them, and found Gayham at 10.20, in the White Swan public-house—I told him the charge; he said "You are getting it up for me, governor"—I took him to the station—he was placed with several other men, and Crecy picked him out—the charge was read over, and he said "I remember Taylor was fighting with a man; I know what I did"—I took Hutchinson on the Sunday night.

Taylor in his defence stated that he was drunk and fell down, knocking against the prosecutor, and was taken in custody.

Witness for Hutchinson's Defence.

ELLEN MCDONALD . I work in a factory—I have known Hutchinson five years, from 1881 to 1886, and continued to see him during that time—on this Sunday evening I heard of his being taken up the evening before—I was with him that evening from 7 o'clock, when we went to the play, I believe it was the Pavilion, and remained till about 11.15.

By theCOURT. I did not lose sight of him for any time between 1881 and 1886.

GUILTY . The prisoners were further charged with previous convictions, Taylor at Clerkenwell on 22nd March, 1880, and Gayham and Hutchinson at the Thames Police-court on 25th October, 1883, to which TAYLOR and GAYHAM PLEADED GUILTY.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour each.

EDWARD COLWELL (Policeman Y 470). I was present at the Thames Police-court on October 23rd, 1883, when Alfred Hutchinson was convicted of robbery from the person; I produce the certificate; Hutchinson is the man.

HUTCHINSON—GUILTY**.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1051

1051. HENRY KENT (36) was indicted for a libel on Henry Rogers.

After the case had commenced, the prisoners stated that he wished to plead a justification; to enable him to do so next Session theRECORDERdischarged the Jury without giving any verdict.

Reference Number: t18861025-1052

1052. JOHN SMITH (23) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Alworth Park and stealing 48 pairs of boots and one boot, his property.

MR. WILKINSONProsecuted; MR. ARTHUR GILLDefended.

ALFRED BRETT . I am a member of the Salvage Corps—on 25th September I was in charge of Mr. Park's premises, 155, Dollin Road, Hammersmith, where there had been a fire—the manager and I were there day and night—I left at a few minutes after 11 that night, leaving the place secure and the side gate locked—I returned in 20 or 25 minutes, and then came back and found the side gate three or four inches open and on the move—I pushed it open, went into the yard, and saw the prisoner behind the door—I asked him what he was doing there—he said that he had only come to look over the premises, and he had been staying next door, and did not think he was doing any harm—I said, "I do not know what I shall do with you"—he kept behind the door, and I found the padlock had been forced off it—I turned and saw him run out, and a man behind him, whom I had not seen, and who got away, but I never lost sight of the prisoner—I shouted "Stop thief"—Mr. Crocker stopped him, and he was given in charge—I went back and found the bag of boots behind the door on the ground, which was not there when I left.

Cross-examined. They ran away before I shouted "Thieves."

DAUGLAS CROCKER . I am an engine-fitter, of 27, Cassiter Road, Walham Green—on 25th September I was in Glenthorn Road about 11.20, heard cries of "Stop thief," and saw the prisoner running towards me—I called to him to stop—he said, "Don't stop me, I have done nothing"—I put my foot out, and he tripped and fell—he got up and went away, and I again tripped him up, and fell on him, and a policeman caught him by his throat.

WILLIAM GREEN (Policeman T 171). On 25th September, after 11p.m., I heard a cry of "Stop thief" in Dollin Road, and saw the prisoner running—Crocker kicked him down, and he was detained in custody—Mr. Manard charged him.

THEODORE MANARD . I was manager to Mr. Park, a bootmaker, of 125, King Street, Hammersmith—he had a fire there—these boots (produced) are part of his stock, and were kept in the shop.

The prisoner in his statement before the Magistrate said that a man named George Smith took him into the back yard to look at the fire, and that

SEPTIMUS WAGNER . I am a coach painter, of 22, Wharfedale Road, King's Cross—on the night of 30th August, about 9.30, I was walking over Battle Bridge, St. Pancras; I saw Munroe in the middle of a crowd, and he wanted a cab to take him to Barnsbury—he was drunk—a four-wheeled cab drew up to the pavement; the cabman said he would not take him without he had some money first—Munroe took a quantity of money out of his right-hand trousers pocket, and gave the cabman some—the cabman said he had only given him 3d. and it was not enough, and he would not take him unless he had more—Taylor, who was standing next to Munroe, said "I will lend you a hand to get into the cab"—he started to do so, and put his hand into his right-hand trousers pocket and turned it inside out, and about 30s. in silver fell to the ground; he then got hold of Munroe by the throat and threw him violently against the wall of the bridge; then he threw him on his face on the pavement—Taylor picked up a black bag which Munroe dropped as he fell, and gave it to a shorter man—Munroe cried out "Murder!" when on the ground—Taylor then kicked him twice in his side, and then he and Austin helped him up, and put him in the cab—he had no hat on; I had not seen one—the cabman, who was holding his horses head, got on his box and drove away—Henry Sylvester was with me; we followed the cab to outside All Saints' Church, Caledonian Road, about 300 yards from Battle Bridge—the driver there stopped and pulled Munroe out—I afterwards saw Shrimpton take the prisoner in custody; we spoke to the constable, and went with him to the station, where I gave a description of Taylor—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man—all I saw Austin do was to help Munroe in the cab—then Munroe asked for his hat; Austin said it was inside, and threw a piece of paper into the bottom of the cab.

Cross-examined byMR. MARSHALL HALL. I have known Taylor for 18 months by sight—I never knew him work at the gas works—I never had a squabble with him outside a public-house—I left Mr. Collyer's employ because of slack business—I am a bit near sighted, but that was not the cause of my leaving—I have to put a book close to my eyes to read—there is a lamp close on Battle Bridge—there are a good many men like Taylor about; his is a common kind of dress there—there were a good many people on the bridge—Taylor put his hand into Munroe's pocket, and then threw him against the bridge—I was standing about two yards from the prisoner among the crowd—if I had been more than two yards

I should not attempt to say positively who it was; my vision is not good beyond that distance—Munroe had no hat that I saw; he was drunk—I only recognized the two prisoners of the men who were there—there were about 40 altogether, I think—I am 19—I and Sylvester are friends—I described to the policemen the man I have known for 18 months—I did not know his name.

Cross-examined byMR. FRITH. I had never seen Austin before to my knowledge—I went to the police-court first and gave evidence against Taylor, and then when Austin was arrested I went to give evidence against both of them—I went with Sylvester and Williams to the police-station to identify Austin; Sylvester did not do so—I walked up and down the line three times, and then said "This is the man, and touched him"—there was a tremendous scene of confusion and excitement at the place where Munroe was assaulted—Austin was about three yards from him; near enough to take part in the assault if he had chosen, but I did not see him do anything in connection with the assault.

HENRY SYLVESTER . I live at 172, Pentonville Road—on 30th August, at 9.30, I was with Wagner on Battle Bridge—I saw a crowd, and Munroe, who was drunk, looking for a cab—a four-wheeler came along and drew up against the kerb—the cabman said he had only had 3d., and would not take him without he paid his right fare—Munroe gave the cabman his right fare out of his right-hand trousers pocket—then Taylor turned that pocket inside out—the money fell on the ground, and there was a scramble among the people standing round to pick it up—Taylor picked no money up, but helped Munroe into the cab, and as he got his foot on the step he seized him by the throat and shied him against the railway wall on the other side of the pavement—Munroe was on the ground a little while; Taylor kicked him twice in the side as he was falling; he fell down; his head touched the wall—Munroe had a stick and a bag in his hand, and I saw nothing done with those—when he got up from the ground Taylor took his hat, and passed it to a shorter man—Taylor helped him in the cab, which then drove of—I and Wagner followed it to All Saints' Street to the General Picton public-house—it then stopped, and Munroe was put out—I afterwards saw him leaning against a wall in All Saints' Street—Shrimpton was with him—I made a statement to Shrimpton, and went to the station with him, and described the two men—I cannot recognise Austin by his face—I never picked him out, but the man was very like him—I am sure about Taylor—I was standing not above two yards from him at the time—I am not short-sighted—I have no doubt about him.

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. Wagner was quite close to me; he is a great friend of mine—he was about one and a half yards from Munroe; the prisoner was between us—there were 20 or 30 or possibly 40 people there—I have known Taylor by sight for a long time—I did not take notice of the others there, and could not identify any one else—I did not have a bit of the scramble—I have no trade; I do odd jobs; I am 17; I do cab painting the same as my father—I and Wagner have forked together—we have not talked this over since: we have mentioned it—we talked about it that day, and agreed Taylor did it—I am quite sure now he was the man that committed the assault, and that I had known for some time—there was a light overhead—Taylor said "I will help you into the cab," and after that he pulled Munroe back—he only

knocked him down once I am sure—he kicked him twice as he was falling—Munroe had a hat, which Taylor passed to a shorter man—Wagner was close to me then, and could have seen it—I told them at the police-station what clothes that shorter man had; I did not know him before—I could give an exact description of the face of the man I knew before.

Cross-examined byMR. FRITH. I first gave evidence against Taylor, and then on a second occasion against Taylor and Austin—I cannot identify Austin, but it was a man like him—I did not see him put his head into the cab and speak to Munroe.

By theCOURT. Taylor picked up the handbag, but I never saw it taken away—I saw it handed to a shorter man, and I did not see him any more.

JAMES WILLIAMS . I live at 5, Clarendon Square, St. Pancras, and am a lead-pipe coiler—on this night, about 9.15, I was passing over Battle Bridge, and saw Munroe the worse for liquor in a stupefied condition, surrounded by Austin and a tall man, who I believe to be. Taylor—a short man who is not here, put his hand into Munroe's right-hand trousers pocket—he said "Take your hand out of my pocket; I have two knives in that pocket"—the tall man, who I believe to be Taylor, then threw Munroe badly against the wall of the bridge—a four-wheeled cab was passing—the two prisoners and others called to the cabman, who drew up—seeing Munro was in a stupefied condition he asked for his fare first—Munroe handed him some coppers, but the cabman objected that it was only threepennyworth of coppers—while Munroe was bargaining, the tall man put his hand in Munroe's right-hand trousers pocket, and turned it inside out—his money fell to the ground, and was scrambled for—Munroe got a shove on his face, and was thrown on his face on the ground by the tall man, and was kicked twice in the side—the cabman said "Put him inside and I will take him"—the tall man and two others put him in the cab—Munroe's bag had been snatched out of his hand by a man who is not here, and his hat was taken off his head by the tall man, and put on to another man's head—I did not see Austin do anything.

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. This was at a quarter-past 9—there were 40 or 50 people there by the time the cab came up—I said before the Magistrate "To the best of my belief Taylor is the tall man I spoke of, but I should not like to swear to him * * *; the spot was very dark; when I came up five or six men were hustling the gentleman."

Cross-examined byMR. FRITH. Austin was near enough to have rendered assistance if he had chosen, but he did not use any violence; he went down in the scramble.

Re-examined. There was a lamp overhead, but you could not see plainly, unless you went in front of a person's face and looked at him.

By theCOURT. I saw the tall man throw Munroe against the wall of the bridge before a hand was put in his pocket and the money taken out; that was before the cab came up.

CHARLES BUTTERWORTH . I live at 25, Hermann Street, Pentonville, and am a stoke-room assistant—on this night, about 9.15, I was passing over Battle Bridge—I saw a crowd and a four-wheeled cab, and a gentleman apparently slightly the worse for liquor, leaning against the window of the cab; the cabman was demanding his faro—somebody came up and asked

what was the matter, and the cabman asked again for his fare—some one in the crowd said he had not got anything to pay the fare with—Taylor, who was standing by the back of the four-wheeled cab, close to Munroe, said "He has got plenty of money if he likes to pay it"—Austin was standing against the bridge-wall—the cabman asked again for his fare, and then Munroe fell down and his money fell out; no one struck him—I did not see him on the ground because of the crowd—I did not see what made him fall—Austin next shoved part of the crowd on to him; they laughed and got up, and Munroe said "Police; I am being murdered"—the cabman again asked for his fare—Munroe said he had not got anything to pay him with, and then the cabman agreed to take him without it—he was helped into the cab by Taylor—the cabman asked where his hat was—Taylor said "Never mind his hat; take him off without it"—I had seen nothing done to the hat; he had not got one on then—after the cab drove off I saw some people searching for the money, and striking matches—I followed the cab to the General Picton—I attended at the police-court, and recognised the two prisoners whom I saw in the dock as the two men I had seen on this night.

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. I did not see them after the occurrence till they were in the dock on 9th September; I volunteered to give evidence—I do not know Wagner, Williams, or Sylvester; I have not seen and talked the matter over with them—I read an account of the matter in a Sunday newspaper, and saw a man named Taylor was charged—I immediately identified, him when I saw him in the dock at the police-court—I saw Munroe's fall and the scramble; I did not see who did it; I did not scramble; I did not see Wagner and Sylvester there—I gave evidence on 23rd September, four weeks after the occurrence—my statement was taken down on paper the week before—I think I could identify the cabman, but none of the others—I saw nothing of Munroe's bag or stick—I was about three feet from them—there were plenty of men round.

Cross-examined byMR. FRITH. Whoever it was leaning against the wall he was entirely a stranger to me—when the money fell there was a general scramble to pick it up, after the cab left—Austin might have been one of those to pick it up; I dare say all were trying to get it—I never saw the two prisoners before—I only heard Munroe cry out, "Police, I am being murdered."

FRANK SHRIMPTON (Policeman G 127). I was on duty about 9.40 near the General Picton—I saw Munroe leaning against the railings in front of a house in Wharfdale Road—I started him walking to see if he could take care of himself, and he walked through into All Saints' Road—he was very drunk—he had only a slight cut on his lip; his coat was slightly muddy and he had no hat—he made a complaint—I took him to the station in custody—Wagner and Sylvester made a statement to me and accompanied me to the station, where they saw Inspector Hancock—I afterwards heard of Munroe's death.

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. Munroe died from natural causes, epilepsy, next day—there is no suggestion that he died from this assault—Wagner and Sylvester described Taylor at the station—Munroe did not appear to be much knocked about; he was bleeding slightly from a cut on his lip—I noticed no mud on the front of his clothes.

between 10 and 11 p.m., when Munroe was brought there drunk-Wagner and Sylvester accompanied him—he made no complaint that night, but he did next morning when bailed—he was charged at 5.15 with being drunk and incapable—I released him that he might catch a train—Wagner and Sylvester commenced to give a description, and I handed them over to a detective who took up the case—I attended the inquest on Munroe.

FREDERICK COBB (Detective Sergeant Y). on 1st September, about 1.30, in consequence of information given by Wagner and Sylvester, I went to the Phoenix beerhouse, which is now called the British Queen—I there saw Taylor; I told him the charge—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was at the gasworks on Sunday night"—I took him to the station; the charge was read to him—after being identified he said, "I was not there, nor anywhere thereabout"—on 5th September I went to the same house with Williams, who pointed out Austin outside the house, and I took him into custody—he was with several other men—Williams had given a description before I went there—I told him the charge—he said, "It was not me, I was not there; I know nothing about it"—at the station Wagner picked him out from 14 others—he said, "Of course you know me, I am always there; I am never away from the spot"—afterwards he said, "Because a man has done no work for a long time of course they fix on him."

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. Wagner and Sylvester said they had known Taylor for a long time, and gave a description of him—I said it occurred on Monday and he replied "Sunday;" he did not misunderstand me—I have made inquiries and find Taylor was working at the gasworks on the Sunday night; that is the last time he worked there—he has worked there for six years occasionally; his father has worked there for some time—Taylor was identified by Sylvester and Wagner from about 12 others.

Cross-examined byMR. FRITH. I found Austin blacking boots outside the beershop five days after the robbery—I had seen him there before, but not for some time before the Sunday morning—the beershop is about 50 yards in a straight line from where the man was robbed.

JAMES RALPH COLLYER . I am a surgeon, of Oak House, Enfield—I was called in on 31st August to attend to Munroe—he was dead when I got to the house—at the inquest I stated my opinion that the cause of death was epilepsy, and the jury gave that verdict—I made a post-mortem and found a slight cut on his lower lip and a slight effusion between his scalp and the bone at the back part—the heart was diseased.

Cross-examined byMR. HALL. He died from an epileptic fit—the slight cut on his lip was not the sort of wound I should expect to find if he had been thrown down in a state of intoxication by a strong man—there were no bruises on his side.

Taylor's father gave him a good character.

Witnesses for the Defence of Taylor.

ELIZABETH FARROW . I am single, and live at 28, Freeling Street, Islington—I keep company with Taylor—on 30th August I met him at 20 minutes to 7, and I never left him till 25 minutes past to half past 9—a few minutes after that I was at my door talking to mother, and saw the prisoner come out of his door with a jug going to get some beer, which I

saw him come back with—we said "Good night" to each other—it is about a quarter of an hour's walk from where we live to Battle Bridge.

Cross-examined. I have not been and am not living with the prisoner as his wife—I swear I have known him 18 months—I have been out with him every night when he has not been on day work—he had been working on Sunday night but not on the Monday—I generally meet him at 20 minutes to 7, and am with him some hours—I was out with him also on the Tuesday, and he was locked up on the Wednesday—I remember the time because I looked at a clock in a baker's shop at the bottom of Freeling Street at 20 minutes to 7 when I went to meet him, and when I got to the bottom of the Cross I looked again—when I got in, my mother told me it was 25 minutes past 9 by her clock—in July I was sentenced at Clerkenwell Police-court for being drunk and disorderly—I may have described myself then as a married woman, I was so tipsy—I had to pay 5s.

Re-examined. I do not carry a watch; I went indoors with my mother at 20 minutes to 10—I have been married, but it was to a married man—I remember it was two nights before Taylor was locked up that I was with him.

ANNIE FARROW . I am the last witness's mother—she keeps company with Taylor—on 30th August my daughter was with him and they came back home together at from 25 to 27 minutes past 9; I am quite positive as to the time, as I went into the bedroom where my husband was in bed, as he has to get up early, and he asked me to wind up the clock—Taylor went into his own house, and a few minutes afterwards he came out without his coat with a jug to fetch some beer from the Salisbury—he came back and passed a remark to my daughter; we were on the steps—I know he has worked at the gasworks for some time.

Cross-examined. My daughter has not been living with Taylor as his wife—she keeps company with him at night when he is not on night duty—she was called as a witness at the Court below—I was called and gave evidence there on 9th September.

Re-examined. Taylor worked sometimes day and sometimes night shifts—my husband is working this week at nights, and would not get up till 5 p.m.—I was out of Court when my daughter gave her evidence.

MARY TAYLOR . I am married, and live at 22, Freeling Street—I am Taylor's mother—on the Monday before my son was locked up he came home about 6.30, as he usually did when he had no work—Mrs. Perrin, who lives in the same street, was there—he went out about 6.40, and came back just at 9.30 alone—he went to fetch some beer from the Marquis of Salisbury, and came back at 20 minutes to 10—he was in bed by 10 o'clock—he works sometimes day and sometimes night shifts at the Imperial Gas Works.

Cross-examined. He has always lived with me—I gave evidence at the police-court after he had been remanded three times, about a month after 30th August.

Re-examined. I had attended the police-court at other times, but was only called once.

JANE PERRIN . I am the wife of Alexander Perrin, of 16,Freeling Street—on 30th August I was in Mrs. Taylor's house taking supper—the prisoner came in at a quarter to half-past 6 and said there was no work, and then he came in from 25 minutes past to half-past 9 and said to his mother,

"We have been for a long walk, are we going to have any beer?"—she said, "If you wish it you must fetch it"—he went and returned in three or four minutes—I left a few minutes before 10—he wished me good-night, and said he was going to bed.

Cross-examined. I went to Mrs. Taylor's about 6 or a quarter-past 6—I was not called at the police-court; I was there ready to give evidence.

ELIZA NORTH . I live at 54, Freeling Street, and am married—I had lost a horse, and on 30th August, Monday, I went to look at one—I saw Taylor with Miss Farrow, outside the Newmarket Inn, at the corner of Paul's Road, just as the clock was striking 9.

Cross-examined. That was at the top end of Maiden Lane, Islington—I have walked from there to Battle Bridge in a quarter of an hour quickly, but it would take 25 minutes to do it slowly—I remember the day because I had been to St. Paul's Mews to look at a horse.

AUSTIN— NOT GUILTY .

TAYLOR— GUILTY .*— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

There was another indictment against the prisoners for unlawfully assaulting Munroe and inflicting grievous bodily harm on him.MR. GOODRICHoffered no evidence against Austin.

AUSTIN— NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1054

1054. FREDERICK WILLIAM LLEWELLYN (31) , Unlawfully and with intent to defraud, omitting and concurring in omitting certain material particulars from a book belonging to Messrs. Browning and Wesley, his masters. Other Counts for other misdemeanours.

MR. GRAINProsecuted; MR. A. METCALFEDefended.

TOM HARDS WESLEY . I am a partner in the firm of Browning and Wesley, railway and refreshment contractors, hotel proprietors, &c.;—our head office is at 17, Spring Street, Paddington, and amongst other branch establishments we have a baker's and confectioner's at 3, Spring Street—the prisoner entered our service on 30th November, 1885, at No. 3, at 150l. a year, with board and apartments, and he was allowed 80s. a week to board a lady assistant and a servant, whose wages he paid—he is married—his business was to superintend the sale and delivery of the goods sent out, and he was entirely manager of that branch—it was his duty to keep a counter book on the desk, and a clean cash-book was kept solely by him, and was under lock and key, and also a ledger, which would be posted from it—he had to send to No. 17, the head office, weekly pay-sheets, with the balance of money in hand, on the Monday—the cashier will give details.

Cross-examined. I had more to do with him thin my partner—I was away from London when the charge was first brought against the prisoner, and Mr. Browning would then be in sole charge of the business—I do not know whether or no he told the prisoner to go away—I was asked the question at the police-court three weeks ago, I have not inquired since.

GEORGE BROWNING . I am the other partner in the firm—there is no pretence for saying the prisoner was told to go away—I have not been called before.

Cross-examined. I did not tell his wife he had better go away, or that he ought to go away, nor anything that could be construed into it.

solicitor to find him, but I never could find him till I saw him in the police-court.

JOHN ANTHONY HICKS . I am head cashier to the firm—it was the prisoner's duty to account weekly to me for the receipts—these are two pass-books of Madame Gellion, the ordinary customers' books—on April 10th I find a sum paid of 4l. 11s. 5d. receipted in the prisoner's writing "W. Llewellyn"—the total paid me appearing on the paying in sheet for that day is 11l. 16s. 5d.—on 16th July in Madame Gellion's book there is a payment of 3l. 16s. 3d. receipted by the prisoner—the total for that day in the pay-sheet is 1l. 18s. 4d.—there is no entry in the counter-book of 4l. 11s. 5d. having been received on 10th April—there is no entry in the clean cash-book of that amount—I have searched for it—there is no entry against Gellion of 4l. 11s. 5d. in the prisoner's writing—there is an entry of that amount in the ledger in the prisoner's writing on 10th April—on 16th July the receipt of Madame Gellion's 3l. 16s. 3d. is entered in the counter-book in the prisoner's writing, is not entered in the clean cash-book but is entered in the ledger in the prisoner's writing—everything in the cash-book and in the ledger is in the prisoner's writing—on 22nd July I find a payment of 18s. 6d. by Chick, receipted by the prisoner in Chick's pass-book—I find that entered in the counter-book by the prisoner, not entered in the clean cash-book, but entered in the ledger as paid—the prisoner's return for 22nd July in the paying in sheet was 2l. 12s. 8 1/2 d.—on April 24th in the counter-book is entered "Mrs. Oakly 11s. 8 1/2 d." by the prisoner—there is no entry of that in the clean cash-book, but it is entered in the ledger by the prisoner—on that day he added up the counter-book himself—I have gone through the books, and taken out these two schedules; they are correct—I can refer to every one of the items. (MR. GRAINstated that these contained a list of customers with the amounts they had paid, which had been entered in the counter-book, but omitted from the cash-book and pay-sheets and not handed over.) These items I should say amount to over 200l.; I have not added them up—I have all the pay-sheets referring to those particular dates on this schedule—I have gone through them all, and checked them with the other amounts received on the same day—I have received none of these amounts—I have here all the pay-sheets, counter, and clean cash-books and the ledger.

Cross-examined. I have been carefully through all the books and entries affecting the prisoner—I don't find a single false entry apart from omissions—there is an auditor, Mr. Harbord, who audits the books every six months; they are audited now up to June 30th—the book debts were made out wrongly by the prisoner—the auditor does not go through the books; he takes the figures I give him to be correct, so that I am substantially the auditor—I had not seen the cash-book up to June 30th; it was locked up—petty expenses are entered on the pay-sheet for the week, and deducted from the receipts, and the balance sent in—I see the cash-books and go by them, and then am satisfied—I don't look at the ledger—Madame Gellion gave a cheque for 39l. 10s. to pay the 4l. 11s. 5d.—the cheque was sent to me, and I sent down cash log the whole cheque to 3, Spring Street—no 4l. 11s. 5d. is entered in the cash-book—I cannot tell from the pay-sheet what the amounts making up the 11l. 16l. 5d. are—the counter receipts are 1l. 19s. 4 1/2 d.—money received in payment of a bill would be put into the till and entered as for a bill—I should say money for hills and counter takings were all put together—there is no account till the

end of the day of the amount of counter takings, and then the total amount is given to the prisoner and he enters it—the total amount found in the till would be entered at the end of the day; amounts of bills and counter takings together—there would be a drawer for cash over the counter, and I should say bills and men's cash would go together—I know nothing about the business of Wheeler and Co.—I was away for my holidays at the time.

Re-examined. The counter-book is added up every night—he received a sum of money from over the counter from the assistant; something from the men's money, and he could see what those two out of the three items added up to, and as for the counter-book, he sees what he has got—he can enter up every night—there ought to be the addition of what I have stated to the amount he accounted for—we have about 33 establishments all over the country, and a manager at each—all the general books of the firm are kept at 17, Spring Street—I am principal book-keeper—all the managers send their accounts to 17, Spring Street—we cannot look over all their books—we engage managers we believe to be trustworthy, and we believe these documents to be true transcripts of the books they keep—I never heard from the prisoner that he had no time to post up his books—he never complained to me about it—the auditors sometimes go round to be furnished with the outstanding debts due to the firm—they would not look at the ledger then—if you wished to see the credit of a person the ledger would be the ordinary book a man of business would look at.

MARY RYAN . I have been for some time shop assistant at 3, Spring Street—the prisoner came on 1st December, 1885—I had previously been there—he kept the clean cash-book—I had nothing to do with that or with the ledger, they were kept under lock and key by the prisoner—there are three sorts of business, ready money small accounts collected by men who deliver goods, money paid over the counter, and money paid by customers who had books—money paid for a book account would be put into a bowl kept for the purpose, and the men's cash was kept in the same bowl—money taken over the counter was put into an ordinary till under the counter—at the end of the day the money in the till was added up, a memorandum of the amount was written on a slip of paper, and the paper and money were put into the bowl—whoever was there would add up the counter-book and check it with the bowl—then the bowl with all the money and the slip of paper in it, and the counter-book, was handed to the prisoner if he was there to receive it; if he was not there I should lock it in my desk with the counter-book, and hand the key to his wife—that was done regularly at the end of each day—I have never had any complaint from the prisoner that the money in the bowl did not tally with the counter-book or with the slip of paper; I have never heard him complain to any one that he could not make the cash tally—I have no recollection of the two sums being paid by Madame Gallion, nor the one by Mr. Chick—it was the habit of the person who took the money, to enter it in the counter-book and to give the receipt—the receipts to Chick, 18s. 6d., and those to Madame Gallion on 16th July and 10th April, are in the prisoner's writing. (MR. HICKShere stated that the prisoner had not entered the 4l. 11s. 5d. in the counter-book.) I never heard the prisoner complain that he had no time to make up his books.

not the whole of them—I have seen him at the books in the week, but I should not know what he was doing—I was not at the shop counter the whole day—when I was absent the prisoner or his wife would be there—I generally received amounts paid over the counter and bills if I was present—the prisoner was my superior—we had only one till and one bowl—the bowl was kept in my desk, and was accessible to whoever was serving, and was open all day—as bills were paid the money could be put into the bowl—if money were put into the till by mistake instead of into the bowl, we should probably think we had had an extraordinarily good day, as our takings were on an average, and we should probably go through the books to see if anything had been left out—if 10s. were put there by mistake we should immediately begin to look through our books.

TOM HARDS WESLEY (Re-examined byMR. METCALFE). I was not annoyed when I found the prisoner was carrying on business as Wheeler and Co. when he was in my employment—he would have no right to order things, only on my instructions—he had orders from me as to what goods he was to purchase—it was not upon discovering that he was carrying on business as Wheeler and Co. that I determined to prosecute him—I was not in town when he absconded—he absconded, we did not send him away—we have had none of the eggs, the proceeds of the business of Wheeler and Co, to my knowledge—I have not made inquiries; we don't recognise the transaction at all.

ByMR. GRAIN. He had no right to order anything on his own account—we could not allow a manager to order everything he pleased—we supply everything from our headquarters.

By theCOURT. No. 3, Spring Street is a bakery and a confectioner's—eggs are used in the trade in the manufacture of pastry—we make everything we use.

ByMR. GRAIN. We have had a claim made on us by the firm of Orange and Taylor, of Boulogne, with reference to an order given by the prisoner.

WILLIAM CRANE (Police Sergeant). I received a warrant for the prisoner's arrest on 29th September, and executed it on 2nd October at 3 or 4 a.m. at Manchester—I read it to him; it was for embezzling 4l. 16s. odd—he said, "All right, I have had the money; I have been betting"—I took him to Paddington, where he was charged—on the way from Manchester to London in the train he said, "I ordered 110l. worth of eggs from the firm of Orange and Taylor in the name of Browning and Wesley at the request of Wheeler, as his name was not good enough for credit. Some were sent" (meaning the eggs) "to 3, Spring Street, and were fetched away by Wheeler; I got nothing by the transaction. My trouble has come through betting. Wheeler said, 'You must go to Manchester, that will be the best place.' He came with me to the station and paid for my ticket to Manchester and gave me 2l. Had it not been for Wheeler I should not have been in this mess. Do you think I shall get five years for this?"—I said "I do not know"—he again said it was all through betting—I asked him no questions; he volunteered that statement—I took it down.

Cross-examined. I took it down not many hours after I got to the station—I did not put questions to the prisoner; I had known him before and I told him I was very sorry to see him in that position.

1055. GEORGE DOTT (39) and WILLIAM SHAW (25) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Isaac Impett and stealing two brushes, his property, to which

SHAW PLEADED GUILTY .

MR. ST. AUBYNProsecuted.

ISAAC IMPETT . I am an oilman at 165, Hackney Road—I locked up my premises at 11 p.m. on 30th September and went to bed—next morning I found my kitchen shutters broken open and two panes of glass broken and the window wide open—the kitchen is at the back of the house, looking into Nichols Square—I missed these two boot brushes out of the back kitchen—I identify them.

FREDERICK PIGG (Policeman G 410). On the night of 30th September I received information and went to Nichols Square at the back of Hackney Road, where I found Dott standing against some shrubbery in the rear of No. 10, Nichols Square—I said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "All right, I will go quietly with you"—I took him in custody, telling him it was for being on enclosed premises—I afterwards went back to the spot and found two brushes, and a hat stolen from another house, on the ground close to where I took the prisoner—this was at half past 4 or 20 minutes to 5 on the morning of the 1st—the gardens of the houses in Hackney Road and of those in Nichols Square run into one another—the prisoner was only 30 yards from the prosecutor's house, just at the back, with only a low wall separating them.

HARRY KNIGHTON (Police Sergeant G 28, Examined by the prisoner). The superintendent asked me to go and see if I could see anything—not more than five minutes elapsed between the time you were taken and the time I got there—I had the place surrounded by constables before I left there.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he must have gone through the front door and laid down there to sleep, and that any one could have thrown the things over the wall after he was taken away.

JOHN INGRAM (Constable, Examined by theCOURT). I found Shaw in the same square—he had nothing relating to the burglary on him—he said he came there to sleep.

GUILTY .

SHAW thenPLEADED GUILTY* to a conviction of felony in December, 1885, in the name of James Mason.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. DOTT— Nine Months' Hard Labour. There was another indictment against the prisoners far burglary.

Reference Number: t18861025-1056

1056. JOHN GILBERT, Feloniously wounding Mary Carnaby, with intent to do her grievous bodily harm.

MR. BROMBYProsecuted.

MARY CARNABY . I am the wife of Michael Carnaby—on the evening of 16th July I was talking to a young woman at No. 19, Parker Street, Drury Lane, and saw the prisoner (whom I had previously seen in a public-house) knocking about a woman he lived with in the street—I said something to the young woman which the prisoner overheard—he said, "What the—have you got to say about it?"—I said, "This is what I have got to say," and I repeated again "She must be a great coward to allow you to knock her about for nothing"—he came over to me and said, "I many times f—you before your Darby had you"—Darby is my husband's name—I spat and said, "You rotten beast, you would say the same of your own mother or the honestest person going"—

he said, "You b—cow, if you give me any of your say I will hit you in your b—eye"—I said, "If you do I will hit you back again"—he hit me in the face with his fist; I hit him back with mine—he hit me again and I hit him again—the third blow he made at me he missed me, and tore the body clean off my dress and left me in my chemise—I hit him a third time—he made a fourth blow at me and knocked me down in the middle of the road—before I had time to get up he kicked me in the eye and said, "You cow"—he was making a second kick when he was stopped by the young woman I had been talking to, who shoved him off—I got up and went to the hospital by myself—my eyeball was burst, and the doctor had to take it out that day week—the injury to the eye was the result of his kick, not of any blow he gave me—when I received the kick I said "Oh, my eye" and got up and went to the hospital.

Cross-examined. You did not call a couple of men away from me just before this in the public-house to give them a pot of beer, there were none there—you knocked the girl about opposite the lodging house—I did not call you filthy names—I did not spit in your face—I did not bite you; I have no front teeth to bite with.

ROSE DUDLEY . I live at 75, Ann Street, Westminster—on 16th July I was at my door in Parker Street, where I then lived with the last witness—I saw the prisoner and a young woman having a little quarrel—Mrs. Carnaby made some remark to me about the woman which the prisoner overheard; she called him a b—bastard—he struck her; she threw her shawl off and returned the blow, and after two or three blows she trod on her petticoat, which she had somehow torn, and then she fell, and when she was on the ground the prisoner made a kick at her with his boot, but I don't know whether he caught her—she said "Oh, my eye," and blood came from her eye—I did not see any blood before the kick—I then pushed him away and told him to leave off and go away.

Cross-examined. I did not see you go into the public-house—Mrs. Carnaby called you a—bastard when you were quarrelling—I did not hear you say anything about seducing her, before her husband—she spat and said you would say so about your mother or the best friend you had—I am single—I get a bit of charing at times, or sell flowers at Charing Cross—Coker, a deserter, went to live with me when I moved to Westminster—I was subpoenaed to come against you on the third remand—I came to see you in prison after the second remand—I brought you nothing; dinner was brought to you the day before—I told you I saw a kick made, but I did not see if it caught her—I have got my living by prostitution, I am not doing so now—the woman you had the quarrel with threatened to put the deserter away if I did not come up against you—she lent me this shawl, it is her mother's—I was not asked so much at the police-court—I did not see you try to get in at your door before Mrs. Carnaby got at you.

Re-examined. I visited the prisoner in prison, and told him I should have to say what I have said to-day.

HERBERT PARKER, M.E.C.S . I am house surgeon at the Westminster Ophthalmic Hospital—Mrs. Carnaby was brought there on 16th July Buffering from such severe injuries to her right eye that it had to be removed—the wound might have been caused by the kick of a boot; it was a rupture right across the globe.

WILLIAM THOMPSON . I am a tailor, of 55, Cromer Street, Gray's Inn Road—on 16th July I was standing outside Wilson's lodging-house, and saw you knocking a young woman about, rowing and quarrelling with her—Mrs. Carnaby was standing next door to Wilson's lodging-house—you said to your missis, "Go on upstairs"—Mrs. Carnaby said she would not allow a short * little b—to order her about the same as he did his missis—the prisoner said to her, "Is it anything to do with you?"—she said "Yes," and made a push at him, spat in his face, and called him all the abusive language she could lay her tongue to—the prisoner said to her "What am I to do?"—she went opposite Wilson's lodging-house and commenced calling him names—he caught hold of her; she fell down in the middle of the road; whether he pulled her down I could not say, but she got up and shouted, "Oh, my eye," and then Rose Dudley picked her up and took her to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I swore before the Magistrate I did not know whether she spat in his face, but I made a mistake then, I did see her spit in his face—I have not been seeing any of the prisoner's friends since, I saw them downstairs, I have not been with them—I knew them from birth—I have been living apart from them—I have been waiting for this case more than a week—I think I said before the Magistrate, "He caught hold of her and threw her down"—I could not see whether he kicked her or not, because when she fell I was all of a tremble to see the blood which was flowing from her eye—she had her hand over her eye.

By the Prisoner. I have not been drinking with Rose Dudley in the public-house all this week.

JOHN DOYLE . I am a labourer, and live at 21, Parker Street, the lodging-house the prisoner lived at—on 16th July I was standing at the door, and saw the prisoner and a young woman come out of the public-house—they had a few words, and Mrs. Carnaby came and interfered with him, and called him most abusive names—he asked her why she could not mind her own business, and they got fighting together in the middle of the road, and while struggling she got hold of the prisoner's coat and wrenched herself away and fell to the ground—then a witness picked her up and took her to the hospital—her eye was bleeding.

Cross-examined. The prisoner did not throw her down, she fell down herself—I have known the prisoner since he came home from his last employment, six or seven months, I think—I saw no more than I have stated.

Re-examined. I saw you trying to get into the house and upstairs away from Mrs. Carnaby; I cannot say who prevented you; there was a strong lot of people about the place—since I came as a witness Mrs. Carnaby assaulted me three weeks ago; she spoke to me about being a witness, and struck me on the nose, and I spoke to a policeman, who said he would lock her up if she did it again.

EMILY STUART . I am single, and an ironer—I live at 75, Ann Street, Westminster, the same place as Rose Dudley—you have lived with me at 21, Parker Street, the lodging-house—you did not knock me about.

The prisoner in his defence stated that the prosecutrix was a very violent woman; that he did not know if he did it or not, but that if he did it was with no intent of hurting her eye.

1881. There were numerous other convictions against him.— Two Years' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1057

1057. JOHN FRANKLIN (28) PLEADED GUILTY * to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Shepherd, and stealing a birdcage, his property.— Six Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 3rd, 1886.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-1058

1058. PERCY DAY (15) and JOHN HUGHES (15) , Maliciously throwing upon the District Railway certain stones, with intent to injure the engines and carriages thereon.

MR. A. GILLProsecuted; and Hughes was defended by Counsel.

HENRY STACE (Policeman T 201). In consequence of directions I received I went to Baronscourt Road on October 13th—there is a piece of vacant ground 'there, and the railway is protected by a four-feet wall—I saw both the prisoners throwing stones across the District Railway at the trains passing from Hammersmith to South Kensington—two trains passed, and they threw eight stones at each train—Day got on the wall and said to Hughes "Look out, John, here comes another train; I think it is a Midland; let fly"—Hughes then began to throw as the train passed, but the stones did not reach the train—I was in uniform, but pretended not to see them—they came to me, and Day asked me if I could direct him to Lillie Bridge—I took them both in custody—I asked them their names, addresses, and ages; they told me they were 16—I said "I shall have to take you to the station and charge you with throwing stones at the trains"—they denied it, and said that they were throwing at a piece of slate which they put up—Day wanted me to direct him to Lillie Bridge, as he wanted to get a situation as a stoker on the District line—another constable was with me at first, but I sent him round to the other end, in case they ran away.

Cross-examined. Jiggins was with me—there is a college close to the line, and the backs of the houses adjoin the line—the cutting is about three yards deep, so that the tops of the carriages are about level with the ground, and the wall is four feet high—Day threw one stone, I think, when he was on the wall; a train was passing at the time—Hughes was about five yards from the wall when he threw—there is a wall and houses on the other side of the line—I was waiting eight or ten minutes, not concealed in any way; Jiggins was in uniform too—they threw when trains were passing, and when they were not passing they picked the stones up and had them ready—Day did not throw from the wall, but Hughes threw entirely from the wall except one stone—I could not say whether they threw across the railway against the wall on the other side, or whether the stones struck the trains—I was 20 yards from the railway—I have not said that I was 50 yards from the railway; I said 15.

Re-examined. I saw eight or ten stones thrown; all as trains were Passing.

waste ground—when Hughes threw a stone he must throw it over the wall, but although the tops of the carriages are level with the ground, several carriages have been struck at that spot—a boy of Hughes's size must throw so as to send the stone over the top of the wall.

HENRY JIGGINS (Policeman T 247). On 13th October I was with Stace at this piece of vacant ground, and saw the prisoners there throwing stones at passing trains—I went round and got the other side of them, so that they could not run away—I heard Stace's evidence; it is correct.

Cross-examined. I was 10 or 15 yards from the prisoners—the carriage doors were about 10 yards below the cutting—the cutting slopes a little from the wall; there are double lines, and then a wall, and then the walls of the houses opposite—they were standing about five yards from the wall—they were not tossing the stones; it was sharp throwing.

Re-examined. I saw Day get on the wall—the stones must have gone some distance by the force they were thrown with.

HENRY JOSEPH SMITHSON . I am assistant to Mr. Osborne, inquiry inspector of the District Railway—I have heard complaints about trains passing Baronscourt Road being struck by stones, the windows broken, and the passengers struck, but not on this particular day.

Day's Defence. I had no stones in my hand, nor did I throw any, nor did I speak while I was on the wall.

1060. WILLIAM ESWORTHY (28) , Feloniously cutting and wounding Harriet Tomlinson, with intent to murder her. Second Count, with intent to do grievous bodily harm.

MESSRS. POLANDandWARBURTONProsecuted.

HARRIET TOMLINSON . I am the wife of Joseph Charles Tomlinson, of Stamford Hill—the prisoner lived with my sister as her husband; that was before April—I don't know whether she left him in April, but she left him some time before this happened—on August 14th, about 9.30 p.m., I was walking in Stamford Hill, and came to a lamp-post near a hairdresser's shop, and the prisoner came in front of me and said something about an address, and I said "Go to my mother; she is the proper person; I can't stand talking to you"—I walked on, and he took hold of my arm—I told him to take his hands off, and kept walking on—I turned my head slightly to see if he was following me, and as I did so I felt something and fell on my knees—I had suffered from deafness before, that in my left ear, and since then I have entirely lost the hearing of my right ear—I did not turn sufficiently to see the prisoner's hands, but I saw him put one hand in his pocket—I have been attended by Dr. Reardon since this, suffering from a pistol shot behind my right ear.

7.30 p.m., but you did not come there; my husband was ill in bed—I had not suffered with deafness in both ears previously, only my left ear when I caught cold.

ALBERT VICTORY WHITE . I am assistant to Mr. Soar picture-frame maker High Street, Stamford Hill—on 14th August I was turning into the main road, and heard the report of a pistol—I looked across the road and saw the prisoner standing by Mrs. Tomlinson, who was on her Knees on the pavement; no one else was there—he left her and went She centred the road, and went like this (throwing) with his right hand—I did not see what he had—I was frightened, and went into Mr. Soar's shop—I came out again, and saw the prisoner surrounded by several persons—I followed him, and saw him go into the Turnpike Public-house and come out again—I saw two police officers, and made a communication to them—I went to the station, where the prisoner was charged—he said there that the woman shot herself and he took the revolver away from her.

Cross-examined. I think you were sober.

THOMAS OLIVER NEWMAN .I am ostler at the Mildred Tavern, Tottenham—I was in Stamford Hill, and heard the report of a pistol, turned round, and saw Mrs. Tomlinson lying on the pavement—she cried out "Murder! I am shot"—I saw the prisoner in charge of two men 40 or 50 yards from her—he drank something from a bottle, and then 40 or 511 yards from her—constable—I was at the station when he was charged—he said "She shot herself, and I took the revolver Sway from her."

EDWARD HUGHES . I am a packer, of 93, Orlando Road, Stamford Hill—I was in St. Ann's Road and heard a pistol in front of me and saw—I Mrs. Tomlinson fall; the prisoner was pointed out to me, and I heard him say "A bad shot"—I took hold of him; I never lost sight of him.

JAMES WILLIAM WHEATON . I am assistant to Messrs. Cogswell and Harrison, of Bond Street—on 14th August the prisoner came in with an old muzzle loading pistol, and asked me for ammunition for it—I had not hot any, as it was out of date—he asked me if I had any cheap pocket pistols; I showed him one—he said he would see if it would do, and went away for an hour and returned and purchased it for 1l. 1s. and 100 out his cartridges for 1s. 10d.—he gave his name W. Beach—I made out his which he put in his pocket—a revolver has been shown me on by the police; it was the one I sold him; it was them broken; it was then broken; it had evidently been jarred by a fall, which had put the the lock work out of order, and the trigger would not cock, that would be the result of being thrown on some hard substance.

DANIEL REARDON . I am surgeon of High street, Stamford Hill—I was called to Mrs. Tomlinson and found her bleeding from a wound behind her right ear, about an inch long; the lower part clean cut, and the upper part jagged—she was put under chloroform, and Dr. Druce and I made an examination, and found all parts covering the bone and down to the bone injured, and bone itself slightly injured—I should say that it was a gun shot wound; it might have been inflicted by a pistol held as described, but I think it would be almost impossible to be self-inflicted—she was under my care up to a week ago.

Cross-examined. I said at Enfield that I thought the shot was deliberately enough fired.

By theCOURT. I arrived at the opinion that it could not be self-inflicted by the position and direction of the wound, and if it had been self-inflicted I should have found marks of gunpowder all round, and there were none.

GEORGE WILLIAM COLLINS (Police Sergeant). White made a communication to me—I went to High Street and met the prisoner—I said "I hear you have shot a woman, you will have to accompany me back to where it occurred"—we walked back to 7, Champion Terrace—on the way he said "She shot herself, and I threw the revolver away over a fence on the other side of the road"—I took him to the station, and he was charged, and said "She done it herself, and I took the revolver away from her"—I found this revolver about 5.30 next morning in a timber yard on the opposite side of the road in the condition in which it now is; it is out of order—there are seven chambers, six of which were loaded—I found this cleaning rod in the prisoner's breast pocket—he had evidently been drinking, but he was quite capable of knowing what he was doing.

JAMES WILLIAM WHEATON (Re-examined). This is the rod I sold the prisoner.

HENRY ASWELL (Police Inspector). I was on duty at Tottenham Station when the prisoner was brought in; I read the charge to him, and caustioned him—he said "She done it herself, and I took the revolver away from her"—I visited him in the morning in the cell, and he said "Have you found the revolver?"—I said "No, not yet"—he said "I threw it away over the fence opposite where she shot herself, you will find it there somewhere"—he had evidently been drinking heavily some time before, but he knew what he was doing.

The prisoner produced a written defence stating that he lived with the prosecutrix's sister, and wished to know her address, and that being unhappy at being unable to find her, he bought the pistol to destroy himself; that he afterwards got into conversation with a man, and showed him the pistol and cartridges, but was not aware that the man had loaded it before returning it to him, and that when he presented it at Mrs. Tomlinson to frighten her into giving her sister's address, he had no idea that it was loaded, and that he had no wish to injure her was proved by his not firing at her a second time, and his not attempting to escape.

GUILTYon the second count. — Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 3rd, 1886.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18861025-1061

1061. ROBERT CRAWFORD (27) , Robbery with violence on Samuel Mackie, and stealing a watch, his property.

MR. WILMEProsecuted.

SAMUEL MACKIE . I am a house painter, of 104, Great Titchfield Street—on 3rd October, about 12.30, I was in Langham Street going home; I had had a glass or two of ale—I cannot say I was sober, but I knew perfectly well what I was about—I passed the prisoner and a woman; he said something to me, and as I was turning round he hit me with something which split the rim of my hat, bruised my shoulder, and knocked

me down—I called "Police!" and got up very quickly, and as I did so the prisoner dragged my watch and chain worth 30s. from my left-hand waistcoat pocket and got off—I ran after him for some time, and saw him caught at the top of Middleton Buildings by a constable—I went to the station and charged him—I suffered pain for three days; my arm was quite useless; it turned all colours—it was not his fist he hit me with, but something hard and heavy.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were charged with robbery with violence—the front of my hat was split—I can't say what you said to me—I was knocked down at the bottom of Little George Street, in Langham Street, about 20 yards from the corner of the Buildings which you ran up—the Buildings is about 50 or 100 yards long—I followed the constable to the station, he did not hand me over to another constable.

By theCOURT. I had had perhaps four glasses of ale and had come about a minute's walk.

BOWDEN ENDCOTT (Policeman D R 42). About 11.40 on 2nd October I was at the corner of Great Portland Street and Langham Street—I heard a shout, and at the same time there was a blow, and I saw a man fall; it was all done instantly—I was 60 or 70 yards off—I saw the prisoner running across the street—I ran down Great Portland Street, through a narrow street, and met him coming through the court—I stopped him, and he dropped a watch and part of a chain—I took him to the station, where he was charged—Mackie came up and said "That man has knocked me down and robbed me," and the prisoner did not say a word—he had nothing in his hand—he made no answer to the charge at the station—the prosecutor seemed as if he had had a glass, but he was quite sober—the prisoner was perfectly sober; I should not think he had been drinking at all.

Cross-examined. I knew you would not go through the market, and I ran the reverse way to meet you, and I met you in the Buildings—it is 40 or 50 yards from the corner of Portland Street to Riding House Street—I ran about 30 yards, and caught you in my arms—they took it down wrongly at the police-court—I went through Riding: House Street—you were within a few yards of the corner of Riding House Street when I caught you by a milk shop—I was not called to Biding House Street to eject a man who was committing a nuisance on the premises.

By theJURY. The prisoner had the watch and chain in his hand—I said, "What have you got there?" and he dropped it.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was very drunk at the time. I was walking along with my missus, she was taking me home. The only thing I recollect was the constable catching hold of me. I have no witnesses to call."

Witness for the Defence.

LOUISA SAUNDERS . I live at 27, William Street, Middlesex Hospital, and I have been working in the laundry—I was with you on this Saturday night; you told me to go back, and you were going to buy a candle—I was going home down George Lane and I heard some one call "Stop thief!" and stood for a while, and when I came through the Buildings. I saw the constable come from where you were going to buy the candle—you came into his arms—I saw the prosecutor lying in the Buildings on his side and a man picking him up.

and next saw him in the constable's arms, about three or four minutes afterwards—I had not seen the prosecutor before—the prisoner had been drunk all day—I never saw him so much the worse for drink.

BOWDEN ENDACOTT (Re-examined by theCOURT). Saunders came and put her arm round my neck as I was taking the prisoner up the buildings—I pushed her away—I should have charged her if she had come further, but when other assistance came she did not come on again.

By the Prisoner. I kept the prosecutor by my side, I thought your companions would get him—he was running towards me—on the road I asked the acting inspector to see him down to the station.

By theJURY. I did not hear the blow struck, I was 60 yards off—I saw it and saw some one fall—I did not know there was a robbery at the time—there is a very good light there, no better in London.

The prisoner in his defence contended that the constable would not have run in a reverse direction to catch him.

GUILTY .

He thenPLEADED GUILTY**† to a conviction of felony at this Court in December, 1877.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

SAMUEL VANSTONE . I live at 16, Newcastle Street, Shoreditch—on 1st June, 1885, about 12.30, I met the prisoner and walked about with him during the afternoon and evening; I had known him for years, and had laid out hundreds of pounds with him—I went with him to Wyles' to buy some timber, but I did not purchase it—I had 37l. 10s. in a purse, and a lot of loose silver in my trousers pocket—the prisoner knew I had the money, which was in gold, as I pulled out my purse to show the timber people I had it—I thought they might send for me, so I went with the prisoner and the foreman to the public-house close by and had a drink—we were there from 4 to 5—we then went into another public-house, and came out about 6, and went into the Red Cross—later on, about 9 or 10, we went into the Red Cross again—the prisoner was with, me all this time—there were a lot of people there—I did not know them, but the prisoner did; they began chaffing one another—I got up and said I am going—as soon as I got out I was set on by three or four men and held down and knocked up and down—the prisoner put his hands into my pockets and said "Now let's let him go, I have got his money"—I saw the prisoner take the money out of my pocket—they then all decamped—I gave information to the police next day.

Cross-examined. I am called "the countryman" by my friends—I come from Bath—I knew the prisoner's father, he was a timber-merchant—when I met the prisoner on this day we went first to the London Apprentice, and I left him there while I went to Light's to get some money for work done—I suggested to the prisoner that he should accompany me to Wyles', and we started to go there at 4—I was perfectly sober—the Red Cross was the last public-house I went into—I did not say to some people in a public-house "Well, lads, what are you going to have?"—I did not call for gin and beer for them—I did not take out my purse to pay for it, I never touched my purse—I did not drop 1l. nor did I offer 5s. to whoever picked it up—a young woman did not pick it up—I did not see that man (Called into court) in the public-house—I did not treat a

lot of strange men to beer in Church Street—I did not see the prisoner knocked down outside the public-house—I did not say to him as he was getting up "Have you got my money?" nor did he say "What are you talking about? I have been assaulted by the men you have mixed up with, I did not know them"—I have been charged at Middlesex Sessions with an indecent assault, you defended me and I got off—I had been convicted before that at Middlesex Sessions and got three months for stealing—I was also charged before that with stealing wood belonging to the Great Eastern Railway from Mr. Forster's—I was acquitted then and discharged without a stain on my character—I have not lost money before—I did not lose a 7l. cheque, and charge my wife with stealing it—I did not accuse Mr. Jacobs of stealing money from me, or of receiving it—I do not know the name or anything about it—I am the only witness here to-day who was present when I was robbed.

Re-examined. I was not drunk when I came out of the Red Cross.

THOMAS YORK (Policeman H 87). I arrested the prisoner on 14th. September at a private sale in Robert Street, Bethnal Green, and told him I should take him in custody for assaulting Samuel Vanstone and robbing him of 37l. 10s. in Hare Street—he said, "You have made a mistake, I know nothing of him"—on the way to the station he said, "We had been out together all day to buy some timber; we went into several public-houses and had drink; I did not take the money, it must have been the other men."

Cross-examined, I made this note of the conversation after the charge was taken—I had it before me when I was before the Magistrate—I did not say there that he said, "I know nothing of it"—he said, "We went Out to buy some timber; he had a lot of money in his pocket, he flourished it about; he was robbed by a lot of men, not by me"—everything he said I took down with the exception of that about flourishing his money—he said that.

By theCOURT. I knew nothing of the robbery before this—the prosecutor came to me and told me to take him in custody.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I am innocent of this charge. I had none of the money, and I did not assault him."

Witness for the Defence.

GEORGE MORRIS . I am a timber dealer—I formerly worked for the prisoner's father, who was 27 years in the timber trade—I have known the prisoner since his birth—he has worked since June, 1885, at Windsor Terrace, City Road, which is within half a mile of Commercial Street.

Cross-examined. I live at 73, Holloway Road—I had not seen the prisoner till to-day since Christmas, but I knew his whereabouts.

TheCOURTasked the Jury whether they considered there was sufficient evidence on which to convict the prisoner.MR. HUTTONstated that he did not desire to press the case.

NOT GUILTY .

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 4th, 1886.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18861025-1063

1063. BURTON CLEMENT RAVENSCROFT PLEADED GUILTY to writing and publishing a false and defamatory libel of and concerning Cicely Howell.— Discharged on recognisances.

1064. GEORGE STANLEY (65) PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for stealing two watches, the property of John Megennis and James Day, having been convicted of felony at Chelmsford in October, 1884.— Three Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18861025-1065

1065. JOSEPH JONES (25) , Unlawfully attempting to have carnal knowledge of Ellen Groves, she being under 13 years of age.

EDWARD ALBERT HARCUM . I live at Eglinton Road, Bow—I was acting as cashier to Clark, Nicholls, and Combes, of Hackney Wick—this cheque for 7.l 18s., dated 3rd July, was drawn by my firm on 2nd July in favour of Charles Smith, in payment of an account due from him to Miss Laura Smith, who trades as Charles Smith—it would be posted to her on 2nd July, I could not swear whether it was—in consequence of what I heard payment of the cheque was stopped at the bank and another cheque given—George Mathieson, one of the partners, signed the cheque.

LAURA SMITH . I carry on business as a confectioner at 102, Commercial Street, Whitechapel, in the name of my late father, Charles Smith—on 2nd July, Clark, Nicholls, and Combes owed me 7l. 18s.—I received no cheque for that amount on 2nd or 3rd July—later in the month I received a post-card from them—the "Charles Smith" on the back of this cheque is not in my writing; I do not know the writing—Charles Smith is dead; I sign his name on cheques—I authorised nobody to endorse this cheque—the first time I saw it was in the hands of the police.

MRY ELIZABETH LUKY . I live at 25, Queen Street, Stratford, and am a dressmaker; I am married—the prisoner is my cousin—I was at his house on the Saturday week after the August bank holiday, the 14th, when the prisoner brought in this cheque, which he handed to his wife and then to me—he said he was going to change it for a young man that owed the people some money that gave him the cheque, and if my cousin changed it for him he would give him 2l. for changing it, and if he changed it himself they would stop that amount out of it—his wife said it was not a good one—he handed it to me and said, "Yes, it is, isn't it. Polly?"—I said it looked a good one, but I had not seen a cheque before—I did not look at the back of the cheque—I handed it back to the prisoner—afterwards, on the 20th, I went with the prisoner's wife to Mr. Roberts, a linendraper in Stratford, and she got the cheque cashed there and received the money.

Cross-examined. I believed at the time the cheque was changed it was all right—I have no ill-feeling against my cousin, I am bound to come up against him—I was convicted of felony 11 years ago; it was for

taking a little locket—I am positive as to the statement made by the prisoner about 2l. being stopped—I know Ellen Jones is not married to the prisoner; he brought her to me as his wife, but his sister told me they were not married.

ELIZA GRIGGS . I live at 30, The Grove, Stratford—I am an apprentice and shop assistant to Mr. Roberts, a draper—on 20th August I cashed this cheque, which a woman with Mrs. Lucky presented—I knew neither of the women.

Cross-examined. The woman with Mrs. Lucky wrote on it the address, 3, South Cottages, Queen Street, at my request—I did not know it was the prisoner's address—Charles Smith was on it when the cheque was brought to me.

ROWLAND WATTS . I am a shop walker in the employment of Reynold Roberts—on 20th August the last witness brought me this cheque, which was endorsed "Charles Smith"—this address was put on by the person presenting it at my request—I authorised Miss Grigg to cash it—the cheque was paid into Mr. Roberts's banking account, and was returned marked as it is now—I knew Mrs. Lucky as a customer.

Cross-examined. It is about half a mile from my shop to this address—the person presenting it told me her husband had received the cheque in payment for work done.

RICHARD JOHN ELLIOTT . I live at 2, Frederick's Place, Gray's Inn Road, and am foreman to Messrs. Greenwood, Arthur Street, builders and decorators—the prisoner was in their employment for some 10 weeks—he last worked for them on 21st or 23rd August—he gave no notice of his intention to leave, but that is not necessary in our employment—if a man absents himself he only gets nothing for it—I have seen the prisoner write; he made this time-sheet in my presence, and I received these two letters purporting to come from him—I think this endorsement is a very good sample of his handwriting.

GEORGE SMITH INGLIS . I live at 8, Red Lion Square, Holborn, and am a handwriting expert—I have compared the "Charles Smith "written on this cheque with this time-sheet and these two letters—my opinion is that they are written by the same individual.

Cross-examined. I have often given evidence in Law Courts—sometimes Juries have not agreed with me—other experts have only given evidence against me once or twice; it is common writing—the man was not accustomed to much writing.

FREDERICK FORTH (Detective). On 17th September a warrant was granted to me at West Ham Police-court for the apprehension of the prisoner and a woman passing for his wife—on 29th September I went to the Peckham Police-station and found those persons detained there—I read the warrant to the prisoner in the presence of Sergeant Breed—the prisoner said "All right"—I took them from London Bridge to Liverpool Street in a cab—on the way the prisoner said "I had the cheque on 14th August and gave it to my wife to change; I can prove that at the time the cheque was stolen I was employed at a respectable firm in the City"—I said "Messrs. Greenwood, in Arthur Street?"—the prisoner said "Yes; I wrote to the foreman asking him for my wages; he sent word back if I sent my address or came myself he would pay me"—I said "Yes, I saw the letter purporting to come from you"—the prisoner said "Yes, I wrote it"—I said nothing to him about stealing the cheque.

Cross-examined. The prisoner commenced the conversation; I did not warn him at all; I let him run on—I took a note of the conversation when I got to the station; I could not write it in the cab—the conversation was all when we were close to Liverpool Street—we had no conversation till we got to London Bridge—the Magistrate discharged Ellen Jones; she was in the cab—I don't know if she heard the conversation; it was not said in a whisper, but you know what a cab is going through London—I never heard the prisoner say "I have a good answer to this; I shall reserve what I have got to say till I see the Magistrate; I neither stole nor found it; I was at work when it was cashed"—I had about five minutes to wait at Liverpool Street Station, and then I took him by train to West Ham, which takes about 15 minutes, and made my note at the police-station there alter I had given him in charge—I believe he bears a good character, and that he is a painter by trade.

He-examined. The woman was charged as Ellen White—my memory is not very defective.

Witness for the Defence.

ELLEN JARVIS . I am single—I have been living with the prisoner for about two and a half years—I went with him in August to Brighton, and stayed there with him the Brighton and Lewes race week—the prisoner won money on the races, and was paid on 7th August, I think, by this cheque for 7l. 18s., which I saw on Lewes racecourse—the prisoner gave it to me, and I put it in my purse—we went to the bank in Lombard Street, at which it is payable, on the 11th, but the cheque was crossed; he could not get payment—when the prisoner gave me the cheque at Brighton it was endorsed "Charles Smith"—after that, at his request, I cashed it at Roberts's, and wrote this address at the back in the presence of Miss Griggs at Mr. Roberts's request—it is the address where he lived, and within half a mile of Roberts's shop—we were conveyed in a cab by Ford—I have not been in Court while he gave his evidence—Ford began the conversation in the cab by saying "Have you a good answer to this?"—the prisoner said "What I have I shall reserve until I see the Magistrate; I neither stole the cheque nor found it, and I was at work when the cheque was changed"—he was at work; that is why I went to cash it instead of him.

Cross-examined. I cannot tell you who gave the prisoner the cheque at the Brighton races; it was a bookmaker—the prisoner did not bring a cheque for 7l. 18s. home after we came back from Brighton, and no words were used in my presence about his having it to get change for a young fellow who owed money, and would have to part with some if he changed it himself—the prisoner showed it to Mrs. Lucky in my presence, and she said "Is it a good one?" and then I looked at it—that was the identical cheque—the prisoner said he took it for a bet—Mr. Roberts's shop-walker asked me where I got the cheque from—he said "I suppose this is a cheque your husband has been paid," and I said "Yes"—I did not say anything about it being received for work done; work was not mentioned—I was charged at the West Ham Police-court in the name of Ellen White—I did not say I was the prisoner's wife.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY . Forth stated that he knew the prisoner as an associate of thieves,

PATRICK LARKING . I am a dock labourer, of 1, Gothic Hall, Broadway, Deptford—on Saturday evening, 18th September, I was in Woolwich with Ellen sheen; we went to a public-house and then I went to her house, but not with her—I went to bed and was afterwards awoke by Ellen sheen calling me; she said "Get up"—I found her holding the door and said "What is the matter?"—she said, "Two men outside want to come in at the door"—They got in and got me on the bed and took me by the throat; Pritchard was one of them—it was dark, but I saw him go out when a light was brought up to the landing—both men got me on the bed; they said "Chuck him out at the window"—after they had gone I missed 14s. 6d. from my coat pocket, which was on the bed—a man named wright came up and turned them out—I was not sober; I had only just awoke out of a drunken sleep, but I knew what I was after—I was out of bed about three minutes—I swear the money was in me pocket when I went to bed I did not look at it—I had never seen the prisoner before.

Cross-examined by Pritchard. This happened about a quarter to 12 o'clock I went and reported this about one o'clock—I should say that McBride was not there at all—this is my belt—I can't say whether anybody else came into the room and took the money while I was asleep, the

door was open—I did not tell the policeman that I used my belt in self-defence.

Re-examined. If Ellen Sheen had not assisted me I should have gone out at the window.

ELLEN SHEEN . I walk the Woolwich streets—on Saturday, 18th September, I went out about a quarter to twelve at night, leaving Larkins at home in bed—I went to fetch half a pint of ale, and when I returned the two prisoners followed me upstairs to my room; I can positively swear to both of them—I had seen McBride before; I did not speak to them—I opened my door as quick as I could; Larking said, "What is the matter?" and jumped out of bed, and the two prisoners came into the room and pushed him on to the bed—they caught him by the throat and chucked him on to the table and said, "We will chuck him out of the window"—I caught hold of McBride and said "You won't," and I took him by the handkerchief—Pritchard said, "If we can't chuck him out at the window we will beat you with our belts," and they beat me with a belt and cut my head and my arm; I was black and blue all over my body—Wright then came up and turned them out—Larking did not show me any money; he never lets me know what he has in his pocket.

Cross-examined by Pritchard. I came into the public-house about 11.30, you did not give me some whisky—there was no light in my room—you burst the door open while I was holding it.

Cross-examined by McBride. I opened the door and tried to keep you out, but I had not time to put the bolt on, and you burst it open.

Re-examined. I shut the door and they entered by force—I knew McBride before and am certain he is one of the men.

WILLIAM WRIGHT . I am a labourer, of 7, Cannon Row, Woolwich—Ellen Sheen lodges in my house—Mr. Larking came down to the door and said that he was being very nearly murdered by some chaps—I went up and saw the two prisoners—I asked for a light; a light was brought and I asked them to come down—they came down into the yard; I identify them both—I told them to go out of the place and they went out—that is all I know.

Cross-examined by Pritchard. I saw no belt in your hand—I saw no marks on Larking but I did on Nell Sheen—you wanted to take Larking outside and fight him.

Cross-examined by McBride. You went out quietly when I told you; you had your coat on.

FREDERICK ALEXANDER (Detective R). On Saturday night, 18th September, I saw Larking and Sheen in Cannon Row, and then went in search of the prisoners, as their description agreed with them and I saw Wright as well, who had known them for years—I met Pritchard in the street and told him the charge; he said that he had not robbed or assaulted him—he was taken to the station.

Cross-examined by Pritchard. Larking told me that it happened about one o'clock on the Sunday morning—I did not pass you after one o'clock; you spoke to me and Sergeant Buckley at 10.30—I did not see you at 12.30—you walked to the station without my putting my hands on you—you said that you knew nothing about it.

JOHN GRIFFIN (Policeman R R 26). On this Sunday at 9.50 p.m. I went to McBride's house and told him I should take him in custody for being concerned with Pritchard in assaulting a man named Larking in the

house of a female in Cannon Row—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was in his company last night"—he had been drinking.

Pritchard in his defence staled that Sheen asked him to treat her and he gave her some whisky, and she then asked him upstairs, where Larking was lying on the bed with his jacket on the bedpost; that Larking asked him what he wanted and he walked out, and that any one else could have gone into the room and taken the money. Mc Bride in his statement before the Magistrate and in his defence denied all knowledge of the robbery.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1073

1073. HENRY PRITCHARD and WILLIAM MCBRIDE were again indicted for assaulting Frederick Larking and Ellen Sheen, and occasioning them actual bodily harm.

MR. ISAACSONProsecuted.

JAMES LOHY . I am a physician and surgeon, and the partner of the divisional surgeon—on Sunday morning, 19th September, I was called to the police-station to see Ellen Sheen; I found a lacerated wound on her right arm about an inch long; it cut through both skins—I also found a scalp wound on the back of her head, and her hands were considerably knocked about and bruised—those wounds might have been occasioned by a belt.

ELLEN SHEEN . When they were going to throw Larking out at the window Pritchard took off his belt and beat me with it, and when I got the cut on my head I was knocked insensible—I got the cut on my hand through defending my face; I caught hold of his hair, and I was knocked down, and know nothing more till my head was being washed—Pritchard did it—I had not invited either of the prisoners into my room; I had never seen either of them before.

Cross-examined by Pritchard. It was light enough for me to see you take your belt off; I did not see you take it off, but you hit me with it—when you were charged you had a belt on with rather a small buckle—Larking did not use a belt, but he said "Look at my belt, his is bigger than mine"—Larking did not assault me.

Re-examined. I had seen McBride, but not Pritchard, but I can swear it was he who I saw at the time of the assault with the belt.

Pritchard in his defence stated that Larking used his belt, and that one man might have done it as well as the other.

GEORGE TOWNSEND . I am a tailor, of 457, New Cross Road, Deptford—on 20th October I had a roll of cloth standing in the lobby; 50 or 60 yards of it—it was outside the door, but inside a recess—I saw it safe about 2.30, and missed it at a few minutes past 6—I saw part of it a weak afterwards at Mr. Phillips's, a pawnbroker's.

MONTAGU SMITH . I am assistant to Mr. Hurry, a pawnbroker, of Deptford—on 4th October the two prisoners brought a piece of cloth, and put it on the counter—I asked them who it belonged to, and one of them said she bought it to make her husband a suit—I asked her who she

bought it of—she said "of a tallyman, and gave 3s. 6d. a yard for it"—I refused it; it was similar to this piece.

EDWARD WILLIAM KENN . I am assistant to Mr. Wild, pawnbroker, of Trafalgar Road, East Greenwich—on 5th October Grigsby brought a piece of cloth very much like this—I asked her who it belonged to—she paid "To me"—I asked her how long she had had it—she said "Between two and three months"—I did not take it, and I informed the police.

GEORGE PALMER . I am assistant to Mr. Phillips, pawnbroker, 68, Wellington Street, Greenwich—I produce a piece of cloth pledged by the two prisoners on 4th October for 8s. in the name of Grigsby—I knew their mother and all the lot—this is it; here are seven or eight yards of it—Mr. Townsend identified it.

Cross-examined by Grigsby. You pledged a coat at the same time, and I served your sister with a piece of cloth—you often came on a Monday.

JAMES STEGGS . I am assistant to Mr. Carpenter, a pawnbroker, of High Street, Deptford—I produce a piece of cloth pledged for 5s. on 4th October by Grigsby—the two prisoners came together, but Grigsby uttered it—Mr. Townsend identified it.

HENRY BOWEN . I am assistant to Mr. Smith, pawnbroker, of 162, Lower Road, Rotherhithe—I produce a piece of cloth pledged for 7s., I believe, by the prisoner Grigsby in the name of Ann West—Mr. Townsend identified it.

Cross-examined by Grigsby. I said before that I believed you pledged it, and I say so now.

GEORGE PURBROOK (Police Sergeant R). I took Leary on October 8th, at 20, Hughes Fields, Deptford, where she lives with her husband—I said "I am a police officer; I hear that you and your sister on Monday last pledged a piece of stolen cloth at Phillips's"—she said "My sister came here, I went out with her; she told me she bought the cloth from a foreign man; I pledged a coat at the same time"—she was detained at the station for inquiries, and on the same day I took Grigsby at 7, Edith Terrace, East Greenwich—I charged her; she said "Last Saturday I met a foreign man, a Jew, I think, and I gave him 10s. for a piece of cloth; I cut it in half; I pawned one piece at Phillips's and the other at Carpenter's, and burnt the tickets; the two pieces were pledged for 8s. and 5s."—I said "You offered one on Monday and one on Tuesday"—she said "I don't think so"—the prisoners' addresses were about a mile from the prosecutor's shop.

GEORGE TOWNSEND (Re-examined). The three pieces produced do not make up the quantity I lost.

Grigsby in her statement before the Magistrate and in her defence said that she bought the cloth of a foreigner. Leary stated that her sister called for her, and she went with her to pawn the cloth, but had nothing else to do with it.

1077. JOHN GROGAN (16) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing a handkerchief a bag, and other articles, and 10 3/4 d., from the person of Martha Stanley, after a conviction of felony in April, 1886.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1078

1078. JOHN GEORGE PETERS (24) , Unlawfully and indecently assaulting Emma Baracliff, a girl under 13 years old.

MR. POYNTERProsecuted.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1079

1079. CORNELIUS SHAY (21) and JAMES FISHER (25) , Breaking and entering the shop of Thomas Tilley and stealing a pair of shoes and 1 3/4 lb of tobacco, and other goods.

MR. WARBURTONProsecuted.

THOMAS TILLEY THE YOUNGER . I live at 79, Rosen Street, Greenwich—we have a grocer's shop at 15, Queen Street, Greenwich—about 3.30 am on 21st September I was called up by the police—I went to my shop missed a pair of shoes, four tins of lobster, some Irish roll and shag tobaccos, tea, sugar, cheese, 2 lb. of butter, bread, two German sausages, condensed milk, and four live pigeons (we found the head of one in the yard)—the value of the property was about 35s.; and about 5s. in money—I had seen the place safe at 10.30.

THOMAS TILLEY THE ELDER . I am the father of the last witness—I left this shop on the evening of the 20th, about 10.15, having locked it up—the doors and shutters were all fastened, and all the things were safe-there was 5s. in a little drawer, and a sixpence and a halfpenny I left in the till—I do not know either of the prisoners.

EDWARD SPOONER . I live at 18, Queen Street, Greenwich-my business is to call people in the morning—at 2.30 am. on the 21st I was in my passage, three doors from the prosecutor's house—I heard a noise there—I got up and looked round, and saw Fisher and Shay in the road—I lived alongside Shay for years, and know him well-Shay went home, and Fisher slammed Mr. Tilley's street door and stood in the alley till Shay came back, and then right opposite my door they counted out money and shared it between them-Fisher took some tobacco out of his pocket and gave it to Shay, who put it in his pocket—then they shook hands and bid one another good morning and parted—I was in my passage smoking my pipe; my door was wide open—when I went down the street at 3 o'clock I gave information to the police.

Cross-examined by Shay. My door is on the same side as Tilley's—I saw you in the alley opposite.

Cross-examined by Fisher. I could see you across the road, because the lamp was shining; you were standing directly opposite my door—a great many people pass by who do not see me—you were about five yards from me as far as you are now—you decoyed one of my daughters away and lived with her—I have no spite against you.

Re-examined. My passage is not very dark-there is a lamp outside that shines into the road.

ADA SPOONER . I am 14—I am he daughter of the last witness, and live at 18 queen Street—on 20th September, about 9.30p.m I saw the two prisoners at the bottom of Queen Street against the Club House

speaking together; I knew them—I then went home—Tilley's is three doors from us.

Cross-examined by Shay. I have made no mistake, you were there.

Cross-examined by Fisher. The Club House is a good way from the shop—I speak to you whenever I meet you, and you give me a copper—I did not speak to you then because you were too busy talking to Shay—your back was towards me, not quite your back, I knew you; I saw one side of your face and one side of Shay's, I could not say which side was towards me; you were looking towards the College way; I came from the College—I dare say you could see me coming, I do not know why you did not see me.

SAMUEL CORNWALL (Policeman 24 R R). On 24th September, about 4.30, from information received I went to 10, Queen Street, where Shay lives—I knocked at the door, but could not get in, and had to get in by a ladder through a window—I went into a room, where I saw two tins of lobster and all these articles, which were identified by the prosecutor as having been stolen from him the same morning, on the sideboard and window-ledge—the tobacco was found in Shay's coat pocket—Shay had got up the chimney; I sent for a boat hook and fixed it in the seat of his breeches and tried to pull him down; he said, "All right, I will come down"—when he had come down I said I should take him into custody for being concerned with another man in breaking into the shop, 15, Queen Street—he made no reply—I took him to the station—I subsequently searched the room, which is the same side of the way as the shop—I took his coat to the station and searched it in front of the prisoner; there was some loose tobacco in the pocket, which the prisoner said was his—previous to arresting the prisoner I had examined 15, Queen Street—I found an entrance had been effected by placing a bargee's oar against the first-floor landing window, which I found open—I also found the back door open, and the door leading into the shop had been burst open—the shop was all in confusion, things thrown all over the place.

Cross-examined by Fisher. I did not see you that night.

THOMAS FRANCIS (Police Sergeant R). On 21st September, after the remand, I took Shay out of the room and searched him in the presence of a gaoler and inspector—I found on him a shilling, two sixpences, and 9 1/2 d.—I said, "How do you account for this? there has been some money stolen"—the prisoner said, "A chap gave it to me"—I said, "What chap?"—he said, "A chap came in to see me"—the gaoler said, "No, it cannot be so, no one has been in to see you"—he said nothing to that—I afterwards went to his house in Queen Street, and in the presence of his father and mother found four pigeons in a tub—Mr. Tilley identified them.

Cross-examined by Shay. You did not tell me what you had on you—I found the pigeons the same day—the inspector and sergeant were with me.

THOMAS SHORT (Police Sergeant R 9). At 9.30 a.m. on the 21st I went to Fry's Court, Greenwich, which is occupied by Fisher's sister; he lodged there then—it is about five minutes' walk from the shop—I went to his bedroom after his sister had called him—he said, "What do you want?"—I said, "I want you to go to Park Road Police-station with me"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "I have received information

that you were with Con Shay this morning in Queen Street between 2 and 3 o'clock"—he said, "I was at home in bed all night, and it is wrong"—I said, "Con Shay is charged with breaking into Mr. Tilley's shop, and the information is that you were in his company"—he said, "I was in the Glass House all the evening drinking with others till between 11 and 12 o'clock, and then I went home to bed; he was there too"—the Glasshouse is the Prince of Wales public-house in London Street—his sister was present; I said, "What time did he come home?"—his sister replied in his hearing, "After 12, but exactly when I could not say"—I searched the prisoner and his room, and could find nothing relating to the robbery—I then took him to Park Road Police-station, where Spooner and Ada Spooner were—Spooner told the prisoner that he saw him with Con Shay come out of Tilley's house—he declared that it was wrong, and he said, "I was at home in bed, and I can get witnesses to prove it"—Ada Spooner told him that she saw him speaking to Con Shay the night before between 9 and 10 o'clock at the bottom of Queen Street—he declared he was innocent and that it was wrong, that he was not there, and that he could bring witnesses to prove where he was.

Cross-examined by Fisher. I came to you at 9.30 the same morning that the robbery was committed—you offered to turn out everything I wished—I found nothing corresponding with the robbery—I believe you said, as we passed the Glasshouse on the way to the station, that if I would come in you would prove where you were at 20 minutes past 9 by the landlord—I believe you said you had got witnesses—I said I could not allow it—I said you would have an opportunity of bringing your witnesses.

SAMUEL CORNWALL (Re-examined by Shay). You had only your trousers and shirt on when you came down the chimney—I brought you these shoes to put on—you said they were not yours; yours were a new pair of hobnails—you did not say your coat had tobacco in it.

THOMAS SHORT (Re-examined). I went into the public-house the same morning, and the landlord told me he recollected Shay well, but he could not recollect any one else; that three or four men came in between 8 and 9 o'clock, and all went away together.

Shay in his defence stated that he was hop picking at Town Mailing on the Saturday night and bought 12s. worth of groceries, including bread, two tins of lobster, butter tea, and sugar, thinking that the hopping was going to last, but as it finished on the Monday he came home, and was in the Prince of Wales from 8 till half-past 9 or 10; that four men followed him home and pitched things at him, and said if he did not open the door they would break it in, and that he therefore got up the chimney; that they left, and he came down, but hearing some one else come he got up the chimney again, at he thought the same men had returned, and that the things in the room were those he had bought at Mailing. Fisher asserted that nothing had been found on him, and that the landlord of the Prince of Wales could prove where he had been.

FISHER— NOT GUILTY .

SHAY— GUILTY .

He thenPLEADED GUILTY** to a conviction of felony in April, 1881. A large number of convictions were proved against him.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

JOHN HOAD (Policeman R 157). On 17th October, at 1 a.m., I saw the prisoner in the Trafalgar Road, East Greenwich—when opposite the prosecutor's, 164, Trafalgar Road, he turned round, took a bag of tools which he was carrying on his shoulder, and threw it at the shop window—they went through it, breaking a large pane of glass—there were no shutters up—I called the prosecutor up, and the prisoner, who was drunk, was given in custody—he gave no explanation of his conduct; he knew what he was doing; he could walk pretty fair; he staggered a little—he was about three feet from the window when he broke it.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I suffered from sunstroke in India five years ago; I was drinking all day on Saturday, and don't recollect anything about it.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he had been drinking, and might have staggered against the window and broken it by accident.

GUILTY .— Six Weeks' Imprisonment without Hard Labour.

SURREY CASES.

Before Mr. Justice Smith.

Reference Number: t18861025-1081

1081. EMILY PARRY (18) , Feloniously administering to Rose Darling a large quantity of laudanum, with intent thereby to endanger her life.

MESSRS. POLANDandCHARLES MATHEWSProsecuted.

HARRY LUSH (Police Inspector V). On Saturday evening, 21st August, I was at the Battersea Police-station—the prisoner came there and said she wanted to tell me something about the poisoning case—she said "I did it," adding "I put the poison into the teapot"—I pointed out to her the serious statement she was about to make, and how it affected herself, and I asked if it was true that she still desired to make the statement—she then made this statement—I took it down in writing as she made it—I read it over to her, and she signed it, and I witnessed it. (Read: "21st August, 1886. I, Emily Parry, formerly Vass, understanding the probable serious consequences of what I am about to do, desire to make the following statement:—On 26th February last I was in service at Dr. Bayfield's, Soames Villa, Lavender Hill. My fellow-servant, Alice Tharby, and I quarrelled on that day. The same afternoon Alice made some tea for Mrs. Darling, Mrs. Bayfield's mother, who was staying in the house, which she placed on the dining-room table. She then went upstairs. I was in the scullery at that time, and wishing to spite Alice I determined to put some poison into the teapot, thinking that blame would fall on her. I did not think of what might happen to other persons. I ran from the scullery and took the teapot off the dining-room table out to the surgery. I poured something from several bottles into it, one of which was labelled 'laudanum, poison,' and then put the teapot back on the table in the dining-room. I went

to the pantry, took the jug of milk into the surgery and put some chloroform into it, and replaced it in the pantry. It only took me about five minutes to do all this. I had no thought or intention of poisoning any one; my only idea was to get Alice into a row. When Alice was locked up I was afraid to tell the truth. I have often since half made up my mind to make this statement, but could not find courage to do it until to-day. I make this statement to clear all blame from Alice Tharby and to ease my own mind.") She was half crying at this time, rather agitated, but she knew what she was telling me, I think—I subsequently received two bottles from Sergeant Drew; that was in Tharby's case—I handed them to Dr. Dupre.

ROSE DARLING . I am a widow—in February this year I was staying with my daughter, Mrs. Bayfield, at Lavender Hill—on the afternoon of 26th February I took some tea to Alice, and gave her directions to make me some tea—I was afterwards in the dining-room, and I there found the cup, teapot, and milk—I drank some of the tea; it tasted bitter and very nasty—I called Alice to speak to her about it; she did not come; the prisoner came—she said Alice had gone upstairs to dress—she tasted some of the tea, and said it was very nasty; she did not take a mouthful—I tasted some of the tea without the milk and sugar, and found it was worse—I was exceedingly ill for about six hours, and Dr. Jones attended to me—no serious consequences resulted.

ALICE THARBY . I was fellow-servant with the prisoner at Mrs. Bayfield's—on the afternoon of 26th February I made the tea—I put nothing in it; I put the water to it—I thought it was all right—before I made it the prisoner asked me two or three times how long I should be up-stairs—I afterwards went up, and she came up and told me that Mrs. Darling wanted me to say that there was something in the tea—I said I had left it all right—I came downstairs and found Mrs. Darling there—I tasted the tea and found it was very bitter—I also tasted the milk, and I was a little sick in the evening—I was charged with this matter and was sent for trial; the Grand Jury threw out the bill—I have been living with my mother ever since—the prisoner gave evidence against me.

GRORGE JONES , L.E.C.P. On 26th February I saw Mrs. Darling and examined her, she was suffering from the effects of a narcotic poison, such as would be produced by the taking of laudanum or any preparation of morphia—the pupils of the eyes were contracted; the skin in a state of clammy perspiration, the pulse feeble and intermittent, and she was suffering from nausea, all indicative of narcotic poison.

HORACE BAYFIELD . I am a surgeon; my surgery is on the same floor as the kitchen—the door was always unlocked—I saw this tea—I put some of it into one bottle and some of the milk into another—they were taken charge of by Sergeant Drew—I missed between six and eight ounces of laudanum, and six ounces of chloroform from another bottle.

HENRY DREW (Police Sergeant V 18). I received two bottles from Mr. Bayfield—I took them to Inspector Lush and he gave them to Dr. Dupre.

AUGUSTE DUPRE . I am lecturer on, chemistry at Westminster Hospital—on 1st March I received from Lush two bottles—I analysed the contents, one contained ten ounces of infusion of tea, with a little sugar and milk, and one grain of morphia, that is the chief active principle of opium; besides the morphia I found a trace of neconic acid, and 5 per cent

GUILTYof the act, but being insane at the time so as not to be responsible for her actions.—To be detained during Her Majesty's pleasure.

Reference Number: t18861025-1083

1083. AMBROSE GOLDING (56) , for a rape on Louisa Benton.

MESSRS. POLANDandCHARLES MATHEWSProsecuted; MR. WARBURTON

Defended.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1084

1084. SUSAN JOHNSTONE (22) , for the wilful murder of her new-born child.

MR. GRAIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1085

1085. SUSAN JOHNSTONE was again indicted for endeavouring to conceal the birth of her male child.

MR. GRAINProsecuted; MR. HORACE AVORYDefended.

NOT GUILTY .

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18861025-1086

1086. WILLIAM HAMMOND (38), JOHN LINES SMITH (17), HARRY WATKINS (21), and JOHN C. WARRELL (26), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully conspiring to obtain from Catherine Grove and others divers large sums of money, with intent to steal. Watkins also pleaded guilty to stealing three pairs of trousers and other goods of his employers.

JOHN SMITH SYDENHAM . I live at 86, Craven Road, South Bermondsey—on Saturday evening, 6th September, about eight o'clock, I was going home, and was in Craven Road, opposite my house—a woman came up, snatched my watch out of my pocket, and ran away—there were three men and two women congregated together, I followed the woman that snatched my watch—the woman gave me a smack on the chest and knocked me down—after that, men who I did not know and could not recognise, followed me and maltreated me by knocking me down, saying "What are you doing? What are you doing?"—I had a severe blow on the head, which knocked me insensible—after a time I got up and walked as far as the Verney Road, and there they again knocked me about in the same cruel manner and broke my head—I was slightly inebriated—I was taken up and carried to a doorstep, and sat

down on a chair, and they brought me a glass of water, and I was taken by a policeman to the station.

Cross-examined. I went to bed about 9 o'clock that night, but I got up again and went out, and went to the Empress of India, or somewhere else—I was taken to the station and charged with being drunk—I know my watch was safe in my pocket when I went out at 8 o'clock—I did not put my arm round one of the women.

MARY MASON . I am married, and live at 12, Barker Road—on Saturday, 25th September, I was in Craven Road, and saw some people standing in a group—I could not say who they were—when they separated there were three women and two men, besides the man that ran away, and a cabman holding a horse—I know the prisoners are the three men, by sight—it was close to a lamp—a woman ran away from them, and the gentleman followed her—she slipped and fell, get up again, and knocked him down and ran away, and one of the men kept knocking him in the chest, and preventing him from running after the woman—he fell very heavily three or four times, then he got free, and went down the street after the woman—then he came back, and went up the street halloaing "police"—the three men followed him up, and still kept banging him in the chest, and told him to go indoors—I then left—I heard him say "She has got my watch."

Cross-examined. I did not see the watch—there was a cab there, and I thought at first they were quarrelling about the fare.

HARRIET SAMUELS . I am married, and live at 72, Verney Road—on Saturday night, 25th September, about 8, I was in Craven Road—I had just come from my house—I heard the prosecutor shouting "Police"—I saw the three prisoners—Jayes hit him first, and one of the others hit him on the side of the head—the prosecutor said "You have got my watch, what more do you want?"—they used dreadful bad language to him—he stood between them to part them—as soon as he went away to get a policeman, one hit him on the pavement—I could not say which—there was a cab there, and the three prisoners got into it—one did not want to go in, but the others pushed him in—I followed the cab and noticed the number—I spoke to the witness Lawrence, and he followed the cab.

Cross-examined. I did not see the first of it—I did not see the watch or chain—I did not hear the prosecutor say to one of the prisoners, "I will give you a shove in the eye."

SARAH ANN SMITH . I am married, and live at 86, Craven Road, in the same house as the prosecutor—on Saturday evening, 25th September, I was outside my door—coming down the Craven Road I saw the prosecutor and a crowd of about twelve others—I saw a woman run round by a cab—she rose her hand as I thought to strike him, and he shouted out "She has stolen my watch"—he was then knocked down by a man, he got up and ran after the woman, shouting "Police"—the men walked up the Craven Road and the cab followed up behind—I did not see any more—I do not recognise any of the men.

Cross-examined. The prosecutor came in after he had been sitting on a chair outside; his chain was hanging down—he was the worse for drink—he went out again and my husband found him with the policeman.

WILLIAM LAWRENCE . I keep a whelk stall outside the Empress of India public-house in Rotherhithe New Road—I was at my stall on 25th

September; Mrs. Samuels spoke to me, and I followed a cab some distance—it gained on me and I jumped into a pony and cart and drove after it till I got a policeman—I jumped down and got hold of the horse's head—I called to the cabman, "Stop your cab, you have got three thieves in it"—he said, "What has that to do with you? leave go my horse's head"—in the meantime the policeman came up and the cab stopped; the three prisoners were in it.

FREDERICK WINGROVE (Policeman P 507). Lawrence pointed out the cab to me; it was then stopping—the three prisoners were in it—Lawrence said, "These men have knocked a man down and he has lost his watch"—the prisoners said, "Knocked what? I don't know anything about it"—I took them into custody and took them to the station—before they were charged Jayes said, "I saw the man lose his watch; I saw the chain hanging down."

Cross-examined. Jayes volunteered that statement before I charged him—those were the exact words he used; I made a note at the time—it was not" I know the man lost his watch because I saw the chain hanging down"—I saw the prosecutor that night; I accompanied him to the station, I did not charge him—he was under the influence of drink, but not entirely incapable—he was bad enough to be taken to the station; he was detained there till about three o'clock.

FREDERICK CADWALLADER (Policeman M 206). I saw the cab with the three prisoners in it—I arrested Jayes—I said, "You are in custody for stealing a watch with the other two men"—he said he knew nothing about it—I searched him but found nothing on him.

JOHN GIRTNER (Police Sergeant M). I took the prosecutor into custody for being drunk and incapable—I noticed his watch chain; I took it from him—the loop was broken from it and the swivel also—I was at the station when Jayes was charged—he said, "I saw the prosecutor with a watch, and I next saw him with his chain hanging down."

Witness for the Defence.

DOUGLAS JAMES WATSON . I am a cab proprietor and drive my own cab—I live at 9, Corporation Street, Islington—I never saw the prisoners until this occurrence—they hailed me at Waterloo Bridge a little after 7—they got in and two females with them—I made a bargain with them to drive them to South Bermondsey, and they treated me on the way and I drove them to Bermondsey—they had all had a little drink—one of them got out and sat beside me—they told me where to pull up, got out, and one told me he was going to see his brother home, and they told me to wait a few minutes and drive them back—I was going to get on my cab and the prosecutor came up very much intoxicated and caught hold of the prisoner nearest me (Edward Littlewood) and pulled his arm—I told him to go away and mind his own business—he staggered back a little and then came and caught hold of his arm again and said, "I will give him a shove in the eye"—one of the others said, "You had better go away, old man, two or three can play at that; mind your own business—I got on my cab and pulled on about 20 yards, and as I was going I saw the prosecutor in the act of falling—he cried out "Police;" no police came—I went on a little farther and I could see as if there was a squabble or fighting or something, but it was too far for me to see—I could hear the prosecutor say, "Police, I have lost my watch" within a minute or so—the prisoners walked up very leisurely and said, "We know nothing

of his watch; drive us on the way we have come," and I drove on till I was stopped—a man ran after me and told me to stop; I did so, and two policemen came up and told me to drive to the station.

Cross-examined. I did not see one of the women run away pursued by the prosecutor—I did not see the prosecutor fall several times, I saw him fall once; he was too drunk to run—I did not see him touch the woman—I don't think I said before the Magistrate that the prisoners said they knew nothing about the watch—it was the witness Lawrence who stopped me—he did not say I had got three thieves in my cab—he said, "They have stolen a watch or something, pull over to the policeman"—I did not say "What has that to do with you?"—when he told me to pull up I said, "What for? I have done nothing"—two policemen got in the cab and told me to drive to the station, and I did.

JOHN GIRTNER (Re-examined). I have made inquiries about the prisoners; they all bear respectable characters extending over a number of years.

NOT GUILTY.

There teas another indictment against the prisoners for an assault upon the prosecutor, upon which no evidence was offered.

NOT GUILTY.

Reference Number: t18861025-1088

1088. JAMES PETCH PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying Eliza Hollingdale during the life of his wife.— Six Days' Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18861025-1089

1089. EDWARD RUSSELL (54) to publishing a libel on Nathaniel Purdy.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] To enter into recognisances.

1091. HENRY FARLEY (62) to burglary in the dwelling-house of Henry Warren and stealing ten spoons and other articles. Also to breaking and entering a mission hall and stealing a coat and other articles.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1092

1092. SAMUEL WADSWORTH was indicted , with George William Harnott (who did not surrender), for unlawfully obtaining 146 fathoms of firewood by false pretences from Erasmus Duns and others. Other Counts for obtaining other goods.

CHARLES L'ENFANT . I am clerk in the Record Department of the Bankruptcy Division of the High Court of Justice—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of George William Harnott, trading as G. W. Harnott and Co., of 127, Commercial Road, Peckham, timber merchant—the petition was presented by the bankrupt himself on 24th October, 1885—when the receiving order was made on 25th November Mr. Ernest Foreman was appointed trustee—the liabilities were 7,442l. 10s. 8d., the assets 2,615l. 11s. 10d.—on the file is also a transcript of the shorthand notes of Wads worth's examination; also the proceedings in Wadsworth's bankruptcy on the petition of Duus, Brown, and Co., filed 15th April, 1886—Wadsworth's liabilities are 3,653l. 8s. 5d., assets 101l—I have searched, and find that Wadsworth was adjudicated bankrupt on 24th November, 1885, when his liabilities were 1,388l. 10s., assets 4l.—there is no order of discharge under that bankruptcy—there is an order dated 21st December, 1876, on the file for a scheme by which he was to pay 150l., and so

annul the bankruptcy—there is nothing to show that the order was carried out.

Cross-examined. I have not been instructed to inquire whether the 150l. was paid—there is a balance-sheet of Harnott and Co. on the file—a loss is shown on the trading account of 2,052l. 15s. 6d., loss on valuation of stock 350l., the capital is credited at 1,370l. in the deficiency—Wadsworth's proof against Harnott and Co. is 476l.—it is struck out of the list.

CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am a shorthand writer in the Bankruptcy Division of the High Court of Justice—I took notes of Wadsworth's examination—this is a correct transcript (produced).

Cross-examined. There are other witnesses—the questions to Wadsworth are numbered in the first examination 1 to 612, and in the second examination 1676 to 2140.

EDWIN ALEXANDER HANSON . I reside at 33, Albert Road, Peckham, and am employed by Webster and Co., timber merchants, of 85, Grace-church Street—on 29th May, 1878, our firm opened an account with Harnott and Co.—before doing so; I called at their business premises, Commercial Road, and had a conversation with Wadsworth with reference to the firm of Harnott and Co. starting business, and as to their means and position—he said he was starting his nephew, Harnott, in business, at least superintending him—he was a young man; that Harnott had some few hundred pounds, a couple of houses, and security for money; that he (Wadsworth) had made money in business and retired—he gave me his private address—from the house he occupied I knew he must have means to keep it up—then an account was opened—we continued to supply them with goods, and I saw Wadsworth from time to time—Wadsworth transacted the business when I went there—Harnott signed the contracts—I did not deal upon matters of business with Harnott—in March, 1884, in consequence of the account owing to our firm being close on 2,000l., I was directed to see Wadsworth at his business place—I went and spoke to him about the overdue account, and suggested that he should see my principals—he said if the business went on all right he should put in about 2,000l.—he was then endeavouring to borrow money from his friends—bills were running—I frequently took them up to prevent their being dishonoured—I took a verbal guarantee from Wadsworth for Harnott and Co. when we commenced to do business with them—then there was a written contract, endorsed 5th October, 1883, for 1,067l. 17s.—that was for a specific transaction—there was one to guarantee the whole of the bills running at a later date—these are two contracts produced entered into between us, dated March 18th and October 24th, 1884, to guarantee all bills running—this is Wadsworth's signature, and this is Harnott's—in January, 1885, Webster and Co. pressed for payment—I have no doubt I saw Wadsworth in February, 1885—I must have seen Harnott and Wadsworth after January, 1885—I cannot remember any particular occasion; the last time I saw Wadsworth on business was towards the end of 1884, or the beginning of 1885—the last contract was made on 30th March, 1884—the delivery would be some time after; probably up to October or November—I never gave as a reason for not dealing with him that no early cargoes had come in.

Cross-examined. The last goods were supplied about October, 1884; the ship arriving on 13th October, 1884—the purchase was made on 15th

January—I believe we had given them credit on bills of eight and nine months, some of which would not mature till September and October, 1885; they were really renewals—one bill was for 10 months; that was due 31st August, 1885—another for 308l. in March, 1885, and due September 30th, 1885—I may have said before "I merely knew what he stated, that he had retired from business and was living independently"—he never mentioned that his wife had means, and that he was living free from business altogether, or anything of that kind—Wadsworth did mention the amount he was going to put into the business, 2,000l.—in September, 1883, 420l. was paid to us; we had early cargoes, and that was well known in the trade.

LARS WITH . I am one of the firm of Webster and Co., timber merchants, Gracechurch Street—I was aware of Harnott and Co.'s indebtedness to our firm—I placed the matter in my solicitors' hands, Messrs. Ingledew, Ince, and Co., as to the bills falling due—that was some time in April, 1885—I cannot tell you the exact date, as my partner had the management of the affair, and he is abroad—I declined to supply them with further goods—I called at his place of business continually to try and get money—I remember one date, 29th April, 1885—I had called more than once previously—on 29th April, 1885, my partner and I went and asked Wadsworth for money, as he said he had not any money to give us; we told him he must tell us exactly the position of his affairs—I took down on one of his memorandum papers his position, showing that he was insolvent—this is the paper (produced)—he said he had 500l. in stock, 200l. outstanding debts, 400l. of long stuff, that is to say deals and battens and flooring boards, and 400l. spent in machinery, and other amounts, making a total of 2,050l.—he said he had no other liabilities but ours and a few bills amounting to 316l.—our account at that time was 2,600l.—in the 2,050l. assets he put down 400l. for outlay on works and machinery—when I told him his statement showed that he was insolvent he said he would get some more money to put into the business by borrowing money on some houses of his, and if we would not press him he should gradually pay us off—bills were already drawn and had fallen due that he had not met and we were pressing him for—nothing was said about supplying more goods—I never told him that we could not sell him any more goods as we had no early cargoes coming in.

Cross-examined. Upon his statement that he hoped to get some money to pay into the business, that he should be able to pay us off and keep the business going, we gave him time on the 23rd June, and arranged that he should pay us 150l., and then 200l. a month—these instalments he never paid—here is an item put down in the statement (produced), that Wadsworth and Harnott put into the business 1,600l.—that is not included in the assets—they paid us a cheque on 25th June, 1885, for 121l. 11s. 3d. against a bill that fell due in May.

Re-examined. That cheque was never presented, because Wadsworth wanted us to keep it over—the cheque is made out to order, and was never endorsed—we received telegrams from time to time asking us not to present it.

ByMR. WILLIS. We put in an execution on 24th October, 1885—Harnott immediately presented his own petition to make himself bankrupt.

of Gracechurch Street, solicitors to Messrs. With, Webster, and Co.—the matter was put in our hands on 9th June, 1885—on 12th June a writ was issued claiming 1,003l. 10s. 11d. against Harnott and Co., and duly served on 16th June, 1885, by me—no appearance was entered—in consequence of communications from Messrs. With, Webster, and Co., the matter was held over—final judgment was not signed till 22nd October, 1885.

WILLIAM LIONEL FREESTONE . I am senior clerk to Messrs. Duns, Brown, and Co., timber merchants, of 5, East India Avenue—at the request of our firm I called on Harnott and Co. on 10th April, 1885—I saw Mr. Harnott, who said he did not understand the purchase of firewood, but his uncle, Mr. Wadsworth, took the entire management of the business—by appointment I saw Wadsworth the next day—I asked him why he was desirous of purchasing firewood of us while he was purchasing of With, Webster, and Co.—Wadsworth said Mr. Webster told him they had no early cargoes coming, and were not able to supply him so early as he wished, and that if he purchased of us he should not by consequence leave Webster and Co.—I then asked him if he had an account with them, and if he owed them money; he said "Yes"—I said "Have you sufficient in the yard and premises to pay them?" he said "Ample"—such a reply led me to believe he was solvent—I inquired, and found their bankers were the London and South-Western Bank, Bermondsey branch, and the account was in Wadsworth's name and not Harnott's, and nobody had authority to draw money from the bank but Wadsworth—we opened an account—on 17th April, 1885, a contract was made—this is it (produced)—it is my writing—it is for timber ex Bondfide—the account is 496l. 6s. 7d.—payment was to be half in cash on invoiced amount on ship's arrival, and remainder by acceptances of three months?—the cargo arrived on 12th May—the invoice, delivery order, and documents required are signed "Harnott and Co."—we got two days afterwards 100l. and a bill of acceptance for 248l. 3s. 4d.—we got no more—the bill was renewed—the next contract was dated 16th July, 1855, ex Norwegia, firewood value 686l. 13s. 9d.—the vessel arrived on 28th July—the terms of the contract were the same as before—we got 100l. on 1st August, and acceptances for half the amount, nothing more—the next contract was dated 14th August, 1885, on same terms, ex Myra, value 543l. 9s. 5d.—the ship arrived 31st August—we did not get a penny, only the acceptances as usual—the last contract was ex Garibaldi, dated 23rd April, 1885—the ship arrived 28th September—the amount was 868l. 7s. 6d.—the delivery order was duly signed in the ordinary way—we got 10l. only—there was a subsequent contract, which had not arrived when I returned from the country, and I resold it elsewhere—the date of that was 17th August. 1885, ex Harmonie, for 1,100l.—I sold at a loss of 132l.—210l. is all I have received for the timber supplied to Harnott and Co.—the liability was 2,098l. on 24th October, when the petition was filed—the amount proved for in the bankruptcy is 2,419l. 12s. 2d.—we saw Wadsworth when we found it necessary to take the bills up ourselves and renew them—I said "Can you give us further security by endorsement?"—Wadsworth said "I have no objection to do that," and on one or two occasions he put his name on the back of the bill as security—I was induced to supply the goods because of my general view and the impression I formed; I considered Wadsworth a highly

respectable man—I saw the works, the machinery, and the yard, and from various inquiries of references I made, and conversations I had, I was impressed favourably towards him, and I mentioned that fact to our firm; then his connection with Webster and Co., and the amount of stock in the yard being sufficient to pay, formed one ingredient in my mind—I should not have opened the account had I known Webster and Co. had refused to supply him with any more wood—Wadsworth said he had retired for 10 years from business—that was not in a matter of business, but as one friend would speak to another—he also said that he had house property.

Cross-examined. It was not that Harnott had house property; I never heard of that—the contracts were signed by Harnott after being approved by Wadsworth—I asked Wadsworth whether he was a partner—he said he was not, but that the banking account was in his name and under his control—we inquired of our bankers as a matter of courtesy to us, but attached no importance to it—I have been in the business of Duus, Brown, and Co. 17 years—the contracts were Bent on without getting the money; that is usual.

CHARLES THOMAS LAKE . I am counting-house manager of Messrs. Bryant and Co., timber merchants, of Leadenhall House—it is our practice to send out price lists to persons in the trade—we sent one to Messrs. Harnott and Co., of 127, Commercial Road, Peckham—on 16th July, 1885, I received this letter. (From Harnott and Co., stating they could do with some dry pine, and asking for a call.) Directions were given to our traveller to call—we received this order for 981 pieces ex Saltburn—on 23rd July we enclosed delivery order with acknowledgment of receipt of the order, and on 24th August we sent draft for 151l. 18s. 8d. for their acceptance—this is the draft accepted by Harnott and Co. for six months; that was the first transaction—on 20th August I received another order from Harnott and Co., the amount being 158l., with sample order ex Benbrack—that was 3,015 pieces of spruce pine—I sent them dock order and draft for acceptance, 158l. 4s. 4d.; that was returned accepted by post—these are the delivery orders produced—on 24th September I received this other order; I declined to execute it except for cash—we have never received a farthing in respect of those debts—we proved under the bankruptcy for 310l. 3s., the amount of the two orders—I did not see Wadsworth.

JAMES WELLS . I am a carman, of East Street, Walworth—I did the carting for Harnott and Co., of 127, Commercial Road—I saw Wadsworth there—on July 29th, 1885, I advanced 100l. to Harnott; this is the cheque—Harnott had asked me a day or two before to advance it—he said he had got a quantity of firewood coming home, and he wanted to pay expenses for landing and lighterage, and would I lend him a little money until he could realise—he said he would send me a written guarantee and make some goods over to me which were lying at the Millwall Docks—about a fortnight afterwards he sent me over this order on the Millwall Docks for 941 pieces of pine ex Saltburn, which I endorsed "Please deliver to my vans only"—on 24th August I advanced a further 50l.—I still held the orders—I got this further order ex Benbrack for 3,015 pieces of spruce—that is endorsed by me "Please deliver to J. Wells's vans only"—I knew Harnott banked at the London and

South-Western Bank, Bermondsey Branch—these cheques came back to me with that stamp on—they were paid.

Cross-examined. I sold some of the timber; some is still lying at the docks—I realised about 123l.—I have no recollection of seeing Wadsworth in respect of this advance.

Re-examined. I received the two acknowledgments produced. (One was dated 29th July for 100l.; the other 25th August, making over the pine wood; both were printed headings, signed Harnott and Co.).

HENRY SMITH . I live at 7, Finley Road, Peckham—I entered Harnott and Co.'s service in January, 1885, and continued there till about a fortnight previous to their filing their petition—we had considerable timber and match business—I looked upon Wadsworth as one of the firm—I worked under his orders, and very little under Mr. Harnott—Harnott did very little; in fact, I do not know what he did; he came about the place; he was nothing in the clerkship part—I never took instructions from him—I might tell him if I had orders what I was going to do—Wadsworth was over me; he engaged me—he said if I had a business I should get some one to go with me in partnership—he inquired what business it was, and I told him—he said he was going with me into the packing-case business of Harnott and Co. in the Bird and Bush Road, and if I found the business he would find the capital—the firewood business was in the Commercial Road—we started on the business, but I never got the agreement—it was first suggested that I was to have half profits, but when coming into the business I was to have a third—I recollect Harnott and Co. commencing to deal with Duus, Brown, and Co.—before that Wadsworth gave me instructions, and I waited upon them—I cannot recollect what he said; it was to try and see if we could do better—he said he knew Webster and Co.—I did not then know the state of account with Webster and Co.—it might have been to get a better cargo that I was to go to Duus, Brown, and Co.—I called there—I believe he said something about paying too much; we paid every Saturday; that was part of my business—I received the cash from Wadsworth—I paid in both businesses in cash—when I received money I handed it to Wadsworth—I had two cheques drawn in my favour, one on 16th January, 1885, the other in August, for 2l. 10s.—I had cheques on 22nd June and onwards, representing a total of 70l.—I did not receive on the 22nd June a cheque for 10l. 5s., and on the same date another cheque for 27l.; nor on the 23rd June four cheques, one for 5l., two for 50l., and one for 10l.

Cross-examined. I sometimes had cheques to cash in the neighbourhood by tradespeople for wages—I paid the men in the Bird and Bush Road up to the end of May—the money I got from the tradesmen for the cheques was applied in payment of wages—I have kept no list of such cheques—if a cheque was made payable to me I should endorse it—I did not get very heavy sums in that way, from 10l. to 30l., not as much as 130l.; in both places I should.

Re-examined. I changed about half a dozen cheques in the neighbourhood to pay wages; that includes those I have told you; there might have been eight altogether—wages were paid once a week—I never received cheques in June, 1885, at all—I believe I paid wages on the Saturday before Whitsun Monday.

Commercial Road, Peckham—that is where the firewood business was carried on—I was engaged by Mr. Wadsworth, and remained up to the end of May, 1885—I took all my orders from him—I received money in the yard and gave it to him, except on a few occasions when I gave it to Harnott by Wadsworth's order—I think the takings averaged 100l. a week—this produced is a record for one month, which I kept to compare with the next year, to see if the business was falling off or not—I made it from my pocket-book; it was money I actually received—it shows 475l. received in the yard from March 30th to April 25—I paid all that over to Mr. Wadsworth—I sometimes paid the wages; they averaged about 10l. or 12l.

HENRY JAMES FRIEND . I was clerk and bookkeeper at Harnott and Co.'s—Wadsworth answered my advertisement—I then received a letter from him and saw him—Harnott took no actual part in the business—two ledgers were kept—there was no cash takings book that I am aware of—I never saw this book marked "Cash takings book" till the books were sent to the Court—it is in Wadsworth's writing—it purports to be cash takings from September, 1883 to June, 1885, but I never saw it in use—I left when the petition was filed in October—I opened fresh books when I went there; the books in existence were an old day book and two ledgers—this book (produced) was in use when I went; I started it at this page—I do not think that which is cut out of it was cut out when I went—no books were kept while I was there from which this cash takings book could be made up.

Cross-examined byMR. WILLIS. This is the page where I began my work; no leaves in my writing are out out—I made this book up from the cash I took, and kept it till November, 1885, when it finishes—I will not swear that the missing leaves were there when I began—I describe it as the daily cash takings—there were also these two ledgers and invoices on files, and a few sundry memorandum books.

ALFRED MANWARING . I am clerk in the London and South-Western Bank, Bermondsey Branch—I was not there when Harnott and Co. opened their account, but it was opened on 10th September, 1883; it was closed on October 31st, 1885, and the balance, 10s., drawn out—I believe Harnott signed cheques sometimes—these two cheques (Wells's cheques) passed through the bank and went to the account of Harnott and Co.—we return our customers the cheques which have been paid.

Cross-examined byMR. WILLIS. This July 31st, 100l., is said to be the money from Wells—on the 4th a cheque of Brown's for 100l. was cashed—I have no difficulty in showing where the cheques I paid for Harnott and Co. have come to me—I have not heard of the trustee attempting to trace the cheques drawn by Smith in June, 1885.

Re-examined. The trustee would not see me, he would see one of the managers or the partner.

ERNEST FOREMAN . I am an accountant, of 7, Gracechurch Street—I came in after Harnott's bankruptcy, and under Wadsworth's bankruptcy—I have realised assets amounting to about 1,000l., and I expect to realize another 400l. in Harnott's bankruptcy—I have realised nothing of the assets of Wadsworth—on my appointment I took over all the books and documents in the business of Harnott and Co.—I received no return cheques; I took all books I could get—a small ledger with a lock and key was delivered to me later on—I received these two counterfoil cheque

books from January to July, 1885—I asked Harnott whether there were any return cheques; he said that he had none, he thought they had been burnt or destroyed—I know what I presume to be Wadsworth's writing; I have not looked through these counterfoils, but they appear to be his writing—we saw few exceptions; a number of them are written in favour of H. Smith, and some are "H. Smith, change," and others "H. Smith, wages"—in June, 1885, the counterfoils in favour of H. Smith amount to about 123l.—I have examined the cash takings book; it all appears to be in Wadsworth's writing, and it seems all to have been written at the same time—December 25th, 1883, is entered here in the ordinary course, as if they were cash takings on that day, and with it is 12l. 16s. 8d.—the 26th is also entered as if there had been cash takings on that day—I also find entries as if cash had been received on one or two Sundays—I have looked in the almanack, and I believe June 8th, 1884, was a Sunday—October 12th was also entered, and that is Sunday—the takings on June 8th are entered 8l. 14s. 9d., and on the other day it is brought down on the Monday 8l. 1s. 6d.—I do not find the regular books of the business—the cash takings book commences on September 4th, 1883, and another on June 4th, 1885—I have gone through the other books which should supply these figures, but there does not appear to be anything from which the figures are taken—I found no book from which the cash takings book is made up—there is a book, No. 12, which commences at folio 16, and contains purchases only—since June, 1885, on folio 17, there is an account with Webster—nothing is complete; it is all odds and ends, beginning in one book or another; but June, 1885, is when they tried to do something—there is a cash book then, and you will find balance-sheets each day, out they are not brought forward till the next day—there is nothing to be found about them—it begins on the following day without any balance, that is so all through.

Cross-examined byMR. WILLIS. I asked Mr. Harnott about the missing cheques, but I do not remember asking Wadsworth—I put no question to him as to the cheques drawn to "Smith, change"—I did net instruct any one to tell Mr. Fulton or the solicitor that Mr. Wadsworth had not paid the 150l. to the trustee, which he was directed to pay in 1874 as the condition of his discharge—I know nothing about it; I have not inquired about it—I knew of Mr. George, the trustee; I know that he has absconded—it has been said that Harnott absconded—he was bankrupt in October, 1885—I cannot say whether any proceedings were taken against Wadsworth—my solicitors, Thomson and Ward, can answer as to the dates—Harnott may have informed Thomson and Ward that he proposed going abroad till the middle of April, and they may have told me that Messrs. Phillip, Liddpole, and Biddle undertook that Harnott should not leave the country till the end of April, to afford me the opportunity of taking proceedings—Harnott may have been examined in January, I cannot say—I valued the assets at 1,800l. first of all; that was before the trustee had dealt with the stock.

The prisoner's examination in the Bankruptcy Court was put in and partly read.

EMILY ABREY . I am the prisoner's wife—I was cook to Mr. Strangway, of Clarence House, Barnes—I had been in his service a year and one month, and my husband was the butler—a footman named Eydmann was kept, but there were no other female servants in the house at that time—on Sunday, 26th September, my husband and I went out for a walk—I went into one or two public-houses with him, in one of which we met a man named Pain, whom we both knew, and who asked me to have some drink with him, but my husband said I did not ought to drink with him—between 11 and 12 o'clock that night I was about to go to bed—my bedroom adjoins the pantry, and there is a double door; when one door is open you can see into the pantry—there is a window in the room I had my back to it—I had washed my hands and was drying them—my husband was more in the middle of the room—he said that I did not ought to drink with Pain—I said I should—he said I did not ought to speak to Pain against his wish—I said, "I shall if he is civil to me"—we had a few words; I aggravated him very much, and made him swear; he said I was a * *—I saw nothing in his hand, but he shot at me—the bullet did not strike me—I runned away, and stooped down to open the door, and was hit in the forehead, but I heard no report—I then went out of the room, and met my master at the top of the stairs, and he took me into the sitting-room and left me with Mrs. Strangway—I was examined by Dr. Marqueson, and was laid up two days—this is the spot where the bullet entered my head—I saw him once cleaning a revolver, but I did not know it was his.

Cross-examined. I think this was greatly my own fault—my husband was in the Army 21 years and four months, and left with a very high character and five good conduct stripes—he had served the whole of the time that he could possibly serve—I married him while he was in the Army 16 years ago, and have been in Africa with him—he has always behaved well to me, he is a good husband—he had a pension—I have not been a very good wife to him, I have aggravated him very much indeed—drink takes an effect upon me sometimes, and I had been drinking that night—I have created a good many disturbances at Mr. Strangway's, and I once threw a knife at my husband—Mr. Strangway told me he would not keep me if it were not for my husband, and threatened to bring a policeman to the house—I have drunk: with Pain at different public-houses against my husband's wish—I knew that my husband kept a revolver to guard the house, with Mr. Strangway's knowledge, and he has practised with it—I have dared him to fire it—I do not say that he fired the first shot at me, he fired through the window—he was a little nearer than I am to you, but he shot on one side—there was a light in the room, so that he could see me perfectly well—I did not hear a shot when I was on the stairs—if a person fired through the door it would go into the coal-cellar—my husband was at the Savage Club some time after he left the Army.

Re-examined. I have dared my husband to fire at me, but he has never presented a pistol at me before—I said at the police-court that I never threw a knife at him in my life, I told an untruth.

night, 26th September, I heard a noise in the prisoner's room, and heard two shots fired—I saw Mrs. Abrey, when she was half between the door and the stairs, going upstairs, and when I got to the bedroom door I saw the prisoner fire a third shot, it seemed to be towards her—there was no light there, I could not see how he held the pistol.

Cross-examined. She was about the third or fourth step of the stairs when he fired—if he fired in a straight line he would have fired into the coal-cellar—I have only known him a month—he is a peaceable, well-disposed man—I remember some knives being thrown at him, and he pointed out to me the place—I saw a small piece out of the wall and a scratch—I saw Pain once with Mrs. Abrey in a public-house.

Re-examined. Her husband was not there; she was only there with Pain about two minutes—I have heard the prisoner complain about her conduct with Pain.

WILLIAM SRANGWAY . I am an Army tutor, of Clarence House, Barnes—the prisoner and his wife were my cook and butler—on Sunday, 6th September, I heard a noise downstairs and then the report of a pistol—I ran to the top of the stairs and saw Mrs. Abrey coming up with a towel round her head with blood on it, and in her night dress—I took her into the sitting room, left her with my wife, went down to the prisoner and said, "I want that revolver, Abrey"—he said, "There it is, Sir; I am just dressing to give myself up"—I said, "That is right, you will have to do so"—he said he was not going to run, and I said I was quite sure he was not—I sent for the police and for Dr. Marqueson, and handed the revolver to the constable.

Cross-examined. The prisoner and his wife have been in my service, I think, since February, 1885—he was in no respects quarrelsome; he bore a decidedly good character—I learnt his history and have seen his army papers; they were all good—Mrs. Abrey is a very violent woman; I have been obliged to speak to her several times about rows and loud talking and shouting, and I have twice got a policeman there—if it had not been for the respect I had for the man I should not have allowed the woman to stay, and I have told her so—the prisoner had the revolver with my knowledge and I have practised with it, and I have heard shooting and asked him what it was, and he said he had been practising—he is, I think, a good shot—the revolver was kept for the protection of the house.

ARTHUR HUNT (Policeman V R 19). On 26th September I was sent for to Clarence House, and saw Emily Abrey in the sitting room bleeding from her head—something was told me, I went down to the pantry and saw the prisoner; I said, "Are you the butler?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "This is a very unfortunate affair"—he said, "Yes, I have been married to her 16 years and she has been a w—all that time. She lived with a man at Brentwood, in Essex, for three years, and to-night we were there together and she drank with a man named Pain at the Barlow Arms, and she defied me. I told the man not to drink with my wife, and when at home we had words about it, and she dared me to fire and I fired three shots. She has been walking about with him at Hammersmith, and has been to the Exhibition with him"—I took him to the station.

Cross-examined. I did not know him—I have seen Pain about, but never with Mrs. Abrey.

I went to Clarence House and Mr. Strangway handed me this revolver—I found six cartridges in it, four discharged and two loaded—I went down to the bedroom adjoining the pantry and saw some cartridges on the pantry shelf—I found a bullet in the bedroom on the floor 10 or 12 inches from the door, and a mark about four feet or four feet six from the door on the beading of the slam of the door, such as a bullet would make, and I found this bullet near there.

Cross-examined. When I heard of this matter I described the man to a constable in case there should be any attempt to escape—I described Mr. Pain in the belief that he was the husband, as I had seen them together.

CHARLES PORTER (Police Inspector). I made this pencil sketch of the room—there is one window, a bay—the washhandstand is on the right; side of the window and the foot of the bed is directly opposite—I found a hole right through the window pane and the blind, such as a bullet would make, about five feet from the floor.

PARKER MARQUESON, M.B.C.S . I was sent for to Clarence House on this Sunday night and found Mrs. Abrey suffering from a gunshot wound on her forehead, about three inches above her left eye—it took a continuous direction right through the forehead, under the scalp, and over the frontal bone—I probed it and found there was no lodgment in the cavity; the ball had gone straight through and was found a few minutes afterwards at the door—this bullet (produced) would have made the wound—I would not say that if the bullet had struck her point blank death would have been instantaneous, but it would have been very serious because it would very likely have gone through the brain.

Cross-examined. It did not prove dangerous; there was slight haemorrhage but no erysipelas or unconsciousness, and in a few days she was without any constitutional or local symptoms; all trace is now gone.

GUILTYon the Second Count. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Nine Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1094

1094. GEOBGE WILLIAMS (41) and THOMAS JONES (36) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Michael Laws, at Croydon and stealing a timepiece, 27 watches, three dozen copper coins, and other articles, and 1s. 6d. in money, his property.

MESSRS. POLANDandMEADProsecuted; MR. GEOGHEGANdefended Williams.

MICHAEL LAWS . I am a watchmaker, carrying on business at 95, Lower Addiscombe Road, Croydon—I went to bed on May 10th at 9.30 at night, having properly secured my premises, and at 5.30 next morning I heard a noise downstairs, went down, and saw the staircase window open, and the shop parlour door open, which was shut when I went to bed, and the window curtains of the parlour were disturbed—I went upstairs to get some keys in order to open the shop door, and then heard footsteps in the passage—I went outside—I was crossing the road; I went out to arouse a neighbour next door but one, and after doing so I returned and went to another neighbour; I had to cross the road, and as I did so I looked towards a narrow lane which runs at the bottom of my premises where there are stables, and saw the prisoner Williams running out of the lane—that was after I had got about half way across the road, consequently I returned, and took hold of him at the corner,

and asked him what he wanted—he said "I am just going to work, my name is John Smith, living at No. 15 down the road"—knowing that there was no No. 15 down the road, all the houses being villas and little tiny cottages, I caught hold of him—he managed to free himself and joined two other men in front—I ran after them, but they all three got away—I see the man Lane who was coming from the back of my premises—he is the nearest prisoner to me, and I believe his name is Williams—I also identify the other prisoner as one of the two I previously saw—I mean two men passed me as I came from the next door neighbour's before Williams came out—I saw their faces; they were the two men that Williams joined after he escaped from me, and from what I saw of them I can say that Jones was one of them—I saw him again early in June at Wandsworth Police-court or police-station; I cannot be positive which, but the police-court I believe—it was in a large room where there were from 8 to 12 other men, and I picked him out from them—I saw Williams at the same time—I picked Williams out first, and afterwards I picked out Jones—I was afterwards taken to a pawnbroker's in St. George's Road, and saw a timepiece there—my name, initials, and the date were on it—that is all I have seen out of the 200l. worth of property which I have lost, except a niche timepiece which was thrown over a garden wall—I identified another man who was coming from my premises; that was not before I went to the police-station, but before I picked out Williams—it was on the night after the burglary that I identified the other man as Williams—I saw him in a lodging-house in Croydon and gave him in custody—he was charged at Croydon—I did not say that I was mistaken—he was discharged; he proved an alibi, and was discharged at the police-court.

Cross-examined byMR. GEOGHEGAN. Altogether I lost 180l. or 200l. worth of property, including watches and clocks—the man who I gave in custody was named Sargood—there were two remands at the police-court—I was thoroughly persuaded he was the man, almost as thoroughly as I am about Williams—he proved an alibi, but I do not know whether the Magistrate decided that he was an innocent man—I picked Williams out from 8 or 10 other men; it was in a room, not in a courtyard—I cannot say whether it had been raining all day—the other men were about the same height—I said at the police-court when the matter was fresh in my memory "I was going across the road when I saw a man, I believe Williams"—I spoke to the best of my belief, as I am doing now—I also said as to Jones at the police-court "They all ran away, I believe Jones is one of the men I saw"—I only spoke to the best of my belief—I saw Scott at the police-court, the third man, who is now undergoing a sentence of penal servitude—I could not identify him—I do not know that Scott gave evidence on behalf of the Crown in another case this Session.

WILLIAM MARTIN . I am assistant to Mr. Richard La Feuillet, a pawn-broker, of 26, St. George's Road—this timepiece (produced) was pawned there on the 25th of May, 1886, by a woman who I saw afterwards at the Southwark Police-court—it was pawned in the name of Stephens, and I identified her as the woman who pawned it for 1s. 6d. in the name of Ann Ellers.

MR. POLANDproposing to call other witnesses whose evidence did not relate to the identity of the prisoner, theRECORDERinquired of the Jury whether

they considered the evidence of the prisoner's identity sufficient, as if not it was of no use to examine the other witnesses. Upon this the Jury returned a verdict of

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1095

1095. EMMA PEARCE and CHARLOTTE PEARCE were indicted for unlawfully endeavouring to conceal the birth of the child of the said Emma Pearce, at Surbiton.

MR. H. AVORYProsecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGANandSALTERDefended.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1096

1096. HERBERT NORTHFIELD (17) and ERNEST HUGGETT (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Christopher Were Holt, at Sutton, and stealing there from five silver pins, a breast pin, a charm, and other articles, his property. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same.

MR. METCALFEProsecuted.

ANNIE NASH . I am assistant to Mr. Holt, a stationer and printer, of 69, High Street, Sutton—on the night of 7th September I closed the shop carefully at about a quarter to nine o'clock—the articles here are a tobacco pouch, a lady's companion, and three match boxes—the articles stolen on the night of the 7th September were a silver chain, a scarf pin, and a silver charm—I saw those safe on the night of September 7th before I closed the shop, and missed them the next morning—nothing else was missing that I know of—the blinds of the shop were all right when I came down next morning—nothing in the shop had been disturbed.

By theCOURT. I saw no signs of breaking in.

Cross-examined by the prisoner Huggett. I cannot prove that the other prisoner left the premises on the evening of the 7th; I only took the key from the foreman—it would be easy for anybody to conceal themselves on the premises without my knowing it, and I suppose they might do so.

By theCOURT. They could then steal during the night—Northfield does not sleep on the premises.

MARY CRIFIELD HOLT . I am the wife of the prosecutor—on the night of September 7th I saw a silver Albert chain and a silver bracelet in a case in the shop—this (produced) is the chain; I don't see the bracelet here—I saw this pin (produced) safe; it was on one of the cards which we use—when it was shown to me again it was not still on the card; the card was separated from it—I sat up with the last witness waiting for burglars till about a quarter past 12; we were expecting them but not by appointment, or we should not have gone to bed at all—I missed these things the next morning.

Cross-examined by the prisoner Huggett. I cannot prove that the prisoner Northfield left the premises that evening, but the premises were searched every evening after we missed goods—it is possible that he could have concealed himself there—if he once got through the water-closet window it would be a very easy matter for him to get to the front—if he was in the printing office he would not have to get through the water-closet window.

By theCOURT. He could get from the printing office into the other shop by lifting a wooden grating and letting himself down below and crossing the stock room, and upstairs on the other side would land him

in the shop—there is always some one there, and there is always a bell on the door—there is always some one watching, not in the shop, but we had a policeman who had command over the shop on Wednesday evening after the shop was closed, and when the printers were late there was always some one watching who had command of the stock room from the end of the house, and also from the stock room; the place was never left—it would not be an easy matter for anybody to get into the shop from the printing office when we were working late, because some one was always there after the shop was closed and the door locked.

JAMES PAYNE CURTIS . I am an architect and surveyor, of Carshalton Road, Sutton—I drew this plan (produced)—it is a correct plan of Mr. Holt's premises—I prepared it on the day previous to our going to Epsom; that was alter the night of the robbery—I had examined the water-closet window on the Saturday previous to the robbery and took particular notice of the screws—it is an opening two feet square on a hinge at the bottom, which falls down outwards—it is kept shut by a screw which goes into the frame—when I saw it on the Saturday the screw was in it, and going right home—I examined it again on the Wednesday morning after the robbery, and found the screw had been moved between the Saturday and the Wednesday, because the head of the screw was at a different angle to what it was before—it was not removed, but it had been tampered with and screwed up tighter—supposing that screw was withdrawn and the window let down, anybody could get through the aperture into the house, and when they were once inside the water closet anybody who knew the premises could get into the house.

Cross-examined by Huggett. I did not tell anybody to examine the screw; I examined it by myself, and am positive it had been moved; I can take an oath to that—it was in a slanting condition when I saw it on the Saturday previous—when I saw it again it was in a horizontal position—it was impossible that it could be pulled in and out by the fingers; you might do so if you got it outside, but the head of the screw had gone into the wood—I do not know whether there were alterations going on.

Cross-examined by Northfield. There were marks on the window where it had been prized open, but it was prized from the inside long before that—the window was painted, and it would want something to force it open—there were no particular marks on the screw.

Re-examined. The marks of prizing had been done before that—Huggett is a carpenter.

CHRISTOPHER WARE HOLT . I am the prosecutor, and am a stationer—Northfield was transferred to me as an apprentice from the person who had the business before I came into possession of it, which is about two years ago; he slept on the premises—it was his duty to leave on ordinary nights at 7 o'clock, but if they were working overtime it would be later—I don't know whether they were working overtime on 7th September, because I was away—he would have 8s. wages and 2s. pocket money—he lived at Mr. Roberts's, who is a workman in my employ—my premises had been broken into on the 6th of August—we had a series of robberies, and missed a large amount of property—I cannot identify the property which I missed before the 7th September—I lost a considerable amount of property before that, about the 20th of July and about the 6th of August—with regard to the men in the

printing department having any right in the shop at all, a boy comes in with a proof sometimes, but he has no right to be there except as a messenger—there was always somebody to take care of the shop during the hours of business—Northfield might be sent into the shop with a proof during the hours of business, but otherwise he would not.

Cross-examined by Huggett, I cannot prove that Northfield was on my premises on the 7th, as I was on a tour in Normandy.

WILLIAM CHARLES ROBERTS . I live at 3, May Terrace, Beulah Road, Button, and am a printer—Northfield lodged at my house, and was lodging there on the 8th September—he was accustomed to come home about 10 o'clock—we used to leave a key outside for him to get in with—on Wednesday morning, the 8th September, I let him in at a little after 10 o'clock a.m.—the door had been accidenttaly bolted on that night.

Cross-examined by Huggett. The prisoner Northfield did not go home to tea with me on the evening of the 7th, but it was not an unusual thing; sometimes he did so and sometimes he stopped away—I do not know whether it would be an easy thing for him to conceal himself on these premises—he did not tell me where he was going.

GEORGE HARRINGTON . I am a pawnbroker, of Sutton, and produce a silver chain pawned with me on the 9th of August, 1884, by Huggett's brother—I also produce an Albert chain pawned with me by Northfield on the 5th of August for 4s. 6d.—I had seen Northfield before, but did not know at the time that he was an apprentice; I learnt that after his arrest—he gave the address Sutton only—I also produce a pair of opera glasses pawned on the 12th August by Northfield for 4s. 6d.—he gave the same address.

ROBERT RUMBOLD DAVIES . I am a pawnbroker, of Sutton—I produce a silver bracelet pawned on 12th August in the name of John Huggett—to the best of my recollection the prisoner Huggett is the man—some initials are scratched on it; I cannot see them without a glass, but I think it is H. N. to E. H.

Cross-examined by Huggett. To the best of my recollection that bracelet was pawned by you, but I will not swear it.

WILLIAM HOLDAWAY (Police Inspector W). On 8th September at 10 o'clock in the morning I went to Mr. Holt's house and saw the prisoner Northfield—I told him that Mr. Holt's place had been broken into, and some things stolen, and that he was suspected—he said, "Why?"—I said that he had been seen wearing a pin which was thought to be one of the pins stolen—he said that a girl gave it to him—I asked him if he had any objection to my looking in his box—he said, "No"—I took Him to his lodging, but on the road he ran away; I caught him, and afterwards went to his lodging, and in his box I found this property (produced): two silver charms, two silver bracelets, 20 card cases, a silver locket, a Letts' diary, and a quantity of other articles—in his pockets I found a tobacco pouch, a small book, a card case, a letter case, and a piece of cardboard (produced)—the piece of cardboard was not with the pin; the pin was in his box, and the cardboard in his pocket—I then went to Baylis Road, Sutton, where his father lives, and his brothers, and his brother Henry Huggett handed me two Books of Common Prayer and a sealskin purse—I took Northfield to his lodging, and coming back he said, "I suppose I had better make a clean breast of

it"—I said, "You can do as you please"—he said, "We got in, and the two Huggetts have got the best part of the property"—I asked him where the Huggetts lived, and he told me—I went to Mr. Holt's shop and examined the water-closet window—I found three marks of a chisel inside the window, but they were not fresh—the window was fastened by screws, and the marks were inside—I afterwards went to Thicket Road, and saw a Miss Hoare—the prisoner had mentioned her name—she handed me a pair of earrings—she was Northfield's sweetheart; I know that from letters—I found four pawn tickets in Northfield's box.

Cross-examined by Northfield. They are identified by Miss Nash.

JOHN DOUGHTY (Police Serjeant W 32). I was with Inspector Holdaway when Northfield was taken in custody—after that I went to a building on Banstead Downs where Huggett was working, and said that I should take him in custody for being concerned with a lad named Northfield in committing a burglary at Mr. Holt's, at Sutton—he said, "Very well"—I went with him to his lodging, and searched him, and from the coat pocket which he was wearing I took a card case, and in his box, in the room in which he slept, I found a box of programme cards, a pair of earrings, a tobacco box, a fuses box, two card cases, a silver ring, a silver pin, and a cigarette case, and he handed me two card cases, a silk purse, an address book, and a prayer-book—he took the two card cases and the purse from a table in his sister-in-law's room, and said, "These are Mr. Holt's property, and I hand them over"—on the way to the station we passed a house in which a girl lived with whom the prisoner had been keeping company, and he said, "I suppose you will not go to see the girl"—I did not tell him whether I should or should not, but in the evening I went to see her—her name is Lucy Hoare—she is a sister of the girl spoken to by the inspector, and she handed me a silver bracelet—neither of the Misses Hoare are here to-day.

ANNIE NASH (Re-examined). I have seen all the property which has been produced since I left the witness-box—it is my master's property—I identify the whole of it—I cannot tell you when I last saw it safe, but I saw the card case about June—the articles have not been sold.

HENRY HUGGETT . I live at 2, Olive Villas, Burgess Road, Sutton, and am a brother of the prisoner Huggett—Northfield was a friend of mine, and of my brother—I see here a purse, a prayer-book, and a hymn-book—Northfield made me a present of the prayer-book and hymn-book about two months ago, and the purse before that—he also gave me a silver chain which I afterwards pawned at Mr. Harrington's, the witness who has been called—that was in August—Northfield did not say where he got them—he said, "Here is a present for you"—I knew that he was an apprentice at Mr. Holt's, but I did not know what wages he had.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate read. The prisoners each say: "I plead guilty to the stealing, but not of burglary."

Northfield's Defence. My friends are willing to send me out of the country. I call witnesses to my character.

Huggett's Defence. I hope you will take into consideration that I always bore a very good character before; I always kept good company of an evening, but this will enforce on me the necessity of keeping better company all the rest of my life.

1097. JAMES KNIGHT (40), Feloniously receiving 27 billiard-balls a brush, four spoons, and other goods, the properly of John Charles Havers, well knowing them to have been stolen.

MESSERS. POLANDandMATHEWSProsecuted; MR. GEOGHEGANDefended.

ALFRED LEACH (Police Serjeant). About noon on 16th June I followed two men until they entered some premises at 10 and 11, York Road; I waited until they came out, and then went down the passage leading to these two houses—at the end I met the prisoner; I asked him what he had purchased of the two men who had just left his premises—he said, "A clock"—I went with him to his house, Princess Buildings, and in the front parlour on the floor I found a large clock—he said "Two men brought it; they wanted 4l. for it, I gave them 2l.; I don't understand the value of such articles; I never saw them before—he was then given into custody of Sergeant Jupe and taken to the station and charged with the guilty receipt of the clock—I examined the premises; they are entered from the York Road by a passage 20 feet long, which widens a little at the extreme end, and on each side are the two houses, numbers 11 and 10, and in front of the wall, which represents the end of the thorough fare, there is a looking-glass and chair, but nothing hanging outside the house to show there is a legitimate business carried on—the prisoner and his wife live in the front parlour of No. 11, and the back parlour is fill with old boxes; the upstairs back room is occupied by the prisoner and his wife as a bedroom, and the front room is let out to lodgers—the front and back parlours of No. 10 are filled with a large wardrobe and miscellaneous articles, and the upstairs back room is occupied by the prisoner's son as a bedroom, in which there are two chests of drawers and some odds and ends, and the front room is filled full with ladies' dresses—ostensibly, the business carried on is that of a second-hand clothes dealer's—I searched No. 10, and found 27 billiard-balls, some in a handkerchief at the back of a wardrobe cupboard, and the others in a drawer of a chest of drawers—I also found a hat-box under the bed full of plate, such as knives, forks, and spoons—I also found a brush, a sealskin cigar-case, and some spoons and a tablecloth marked "J.C.H.," those have been shown to Mr. Havers, and identified by him—I also found two tablecloths with the initials "F. W. C., five spoons with the initials "F. F," and ten knives and seven forks—Mr. Havers identified the spoons, knives, and forks, and the two tablecloths have been shown to Captain Charteris—they are all in separate parcels before me—I also found 27 various kinds of spoons, 24 forks, two fish knives, and two fish forks—the best part of those had been tied up in small parcels of paper an placed between the cloths; they have been shown to Mr. Wither's servant and identified—I also found a teapot, a cruetstand, two pickle forks, a butter knife, a pair of knife rests, and a pair of clipping scissors; they have been shown to Mr. Wood-well and identified by him—this is the list I am reading from—I also found a napkin-ring, two forks, two dessert knives and forks, two pairs of nutcrackers, and a pair of sugartongs, some of which bear the initial "S.;" they have been shown to Mr. Scott or his servant—I also found 39 spoons, two sauce ladles, one cruetstand, and a tablecloth, Many of them bearing initials; they have been shown to Mr. Morris and identified by him—I further found 18 spoons, a skewer,

15 forks and 15 knives, and a cruetstand; they have been shown to Miss Warren and identified by her—I also found a pair of opera-glasses and a decanter stand, which have been shown to a servant of Mrs. Christie and identified—I also found two sugar basins and this pair of sugartongs belonging to Captain Nelson, and 10 fish knives, a pair of sardine tongs, one spirit label, 19 spoons, 19 small knives, one poultry knife, and six large knives, which have been identified by Mr. Burgess's servant—these things which have been identified have not been shown to the prisoner Scott, he has been in prison—the premises looked like a second-hand clothier's, but I saw none of these goods, I had to search for them—I found the opera-glasses in the boy's bed, and under the bed I found plate, and on searching further I found plate on the sideboard, and the billiard-balls and the brush and the other articles were tied up as I have described, in bundles—I had to make a thorough search to find the things—I noticed stains on the plated articles as if they had been tested, and the sugartongs have been filed.

Cross-examined. I did not say all the plated goods were tested, about one-fourth of them were—I found no acid for testing, or any melting-pot or crucible, or any file—I and Sergeant Jupe are in charge of this case—this search took place on 16th June—various burglaries had been reported at our station between April and 16th June—I did not visit his house until I arrested him; I have been there twice since then; the last visit was either 18th or 19th June—I communicated from time to time with the owners of the property found in the prisoner's possession—the last I communicated with was Captain Nelson, Mrs. Burgess, and Miss Warren—I cannot give you the date of those, Sergeant Jupe can; it was in September—the police had in their possession before August all the articles which have been described here to-day, and thought they were proceeds of burglaries, but we always had a doubt about them—between June and August people came in 11 or 12 cases to identify goods—the prisoner was tried here on 7th August (See page 406) first for receiving the clock, and acquitted on that; he was then tried on another charge of receiving a clock, and again acquitted by the same Jury; and there was a third indictment against him for receiving goods, upon which they offered no evidence—at that time the police knew of nine burglaries, but they only preferred three charges against him—after that trial a letter, appeared in the paper, making complaints about the police—I read it, but I cannot say what it was about—I am not aware that after that letter appeared seven summonses were served on the prisoner; I know he was summoned—when Mr. Havers' servant identified the property he said his master was abroad—I did not tell Mr. Havers I was disgusted with the whole of the Jury, and say there were pawnbrokers on the Jury—I do not know that 28 billiard-balls go to a set, and I do not know that this was an imperfect set found at Mr. Knight's—I said there was apparently no legitimate business carried on; I think I might leave "legitimate" out—I know the prisoner has lived in that parish 20 years—Mrs. Knight gave us as much assistance as a wife could; she brought the jacket to the station—I do not know who showed us the billiard-balls—of all the articles I have spoken about only the milk-jug is silver.

Re-examined. He was tried first for receiving a clock, the property of Mr. Abraham Marks, and was acquitted, and he was then tried in

another case, that of Dr. Burns, for receiving surgical instruments and boots, and was acquitted on that, and then there was a third case of Mr. Stewart's, on which no evidence was offered—they were the only three cases preferred for trial in this Court then—I had at that time taken possession of the property which I have referred to here to-day, but in none of those cases were indictments preferred, nor were the witnesses in this case here to day in Court then; two or three were, but not all—I had nothing to do with the management of the case at the Mr. Stewart's, on which no evidence was offered—they were the only three cases preferred for trial in this Court then—I had at that time but in none of those cases were indictments preferred, nor were the witnesses in this case here to day in Court then; two or three were, but not all—I had nothing to do with the management of the case at the police-court—Mr. Wontner had charge, and selected certain cases which he thought sufficient—after the acquittal the prisoner was summoned to the police-court to answer to other indictments, and various other cases were then gone into against him, none of which were laid before the Jury on the last occasion.

HENRY JUPE (Policeman). I went with Leach to the prisoner's premises in a cab, and searched—I was present when the various articles produced were found—the place was a blind court turning out of York Road, Lambeth, with no thoroughfare through; at the bottom are Nos. 10 and 11—there is no name up—it appeared to be a business in old clothes—after the search I said to Knight, "A large quantity of plate has been found at your house, how do you account for the possession?"—he said, "I bought it"—I said, "Have you any books or receipts to show the prices you gave, or the name of the person you purchased of?"—he said "No"—he gave me no name whom he had bought from—I found no books or receipts—having seized the property, I made inquiries to find the owners.

Cross-examined. Knight buys and dells clothes, but I never heard of his buying and selling plate; he is a general dealer, a man who will buy anything—if he buys plate he will keep books.

Re-examined. I found the silver done up in small parcels; some had vegetables in.

JOHN COURLEY HAVERS . I am a coal merchant, of Woodlea, Bedford Hill, Balham—on the 4th May my house was broken into about 6 a.m., and property stolen—one out of 28 billiard balls was left in the pocket of the table—I paid three and a-half guineas for similar—these billiard balls produced correspond with those I missed; also the polished brush—this tablecloth is marked with my initials, "J. C. H."—I also identify the cigar case from the billiard room—my servant has identified these spoons—the total value of the things I identify is 30l.

Cross-examined. I went to the police-station on my return from the Continent, on 5th or 6th May—I there identified the billiard balls and other articles as the proceeds of the burglary—I was not asked to give evidence on the 7th; I knew nothing of it till I saw it in the papers—I was prepared to give evidence if necessary.

MARY HALL . On 2nd April I was in Mr. Alfred Withers's service, Penshurst Lodge, Balham Hill, a pawnbroker—upon that night a burglary was committed in that house, and there were taken away the 27 spoons, 24 forks, 2 fish knives, and 2 fish forks produced—they are Mr. Withers's property—I was not called at the police-court.

ELIZABETH BURGESS . I was servant to Thomas Briggs, Bella House, Alleyne Park, Dulwich, in April last—between 11 p.m. and 7 a.m. on 6th April the house was broken into, and a quantity of things taken away—the property produced belongs to my master.

HERRIET JONES . I am in the service of Captain Chartris, of The Elms, Roehampton—on 19th April a burglary was committed, and a quantity of property stolen, amongst which were the articles produced—they belong to my master—I was not called on the last occasion.

Cross-examined. All the property which was stolen is not produced here.

Re-examined. Here are two tablecloths, five spoons, ten knives, and a fork.

JAMES FRASER . I am a gardener at the house of Captain Chartris—I have identified the property shown to me by the police as mine.

KATE WARREN . I live at 2, Ratcliffe Villas, Surbiton—I resided at the Grove Road, Surbiton, on 21st April, when the house was broken into between 12 and 7, and property stolen—I have been shown some spoons, 15 knives, a cruetstand, &c., which are my property.

Cross-examined. The stolen property has not all been recovered.

EMILY SHERWOOD . I am servant to Mrs. Jones, of Kingston Hill—I was formerly servant to Mr. Christie, of Surbiton—on 21st April Mr. Christie's house was broken into, and a quantity of property stolen—the opera glass and decanter stand produced are Mr. Christie's property.

HORATIO NELSON . I live at 12, Katherine Road, Surbiton—on 21st April a burglary was committed in my house, and property stolen, amongst which were the two sugar basins and pair of sugar tongs produced—I was not examined on the last occasion.

Cross-examined. A small silver spoon was also stolen.

JANE POWELL . I am servant to Sarah Scott, of 50, Earl Street, London Road, Southwark—on the 23rd April, between 11.30 and 12.45, the house was broken into, and a quantity of things stolen, amongst which were the imitation sealskin jacket, napkin rings, spoons, dessert knives, and forks, a pickle fork, nut crackers, butter knife, and sugar tongs shewn to me by the police—they are my master's.

HENRY AUBREY WOODWELL . I live at Marmora, Balham Road—on the night of 27th April a burglary was committed there—I identify this teapot, cruetstand, two pickle forks, butter knife, and other property as mine.

HENRY MORRIS . I live at 4, Elliott's Hill, Lewisham—on the 18th May my house was broken into, and the spoons, knives, and nutcrackers produced stolen—they are mine.

JOHN SCOTT . On 7th August I was convicted at this Court, and sentenced to penal servitude—before that I had been, convicted at Birmingham, and sentenced to penal servitude—I came out of prison on 15th January—I became acquainted with the prisoner Knight about the middle of February, at his house; I was introduced by a man who kept a broker's shop in the Westminster Road—I have from time to time taken property there and sold it—I was engaged breaking into the house at Streatham where there were some billiard balls, and in stealing the property—that was early in May—I went into the billiard room and took a number of billiard balls, a brush, a cigar case, some spoons, and a table knife—I took them to Knight's the following morning as we went home—I asked him to buy them for 4l. 10s., and he bought them for 35s., and I left them with him; he packed them up in different parcels, and stowed them away—I had been to his house to take things several times—early in April I had been to Balham Hill, and had got

some spoons, forks, fish knives, and plated things—I took these and sold them to him—I do not recollect what I sold them for—I remember going to Earl Street, London Road, near the Elephant and Castle, and getting some napkin rings and things from a bill-sticker's place there, Scott's—I sold those at Knight's for a sovereign—I went to Balham Road on 27th April, and helped to steal some things from there, amongst others a pair of horse nipping scissors—I took those to Knight's and sold them; I do not remember what he gave me for them—I did not file the sugar tongs produced—I took Knight the things which I obtained—I have been there a dozen times with things—I took them just as I got them from the house to Knight's.

Cross-examined. I have known Townsend about six years—he kept a shop in the Westminster Road of second-hand furniture—I never saw any clothes—I have seen him buy boots—he had a shop at the beginning of this year—Townsend went with me to Knight's in the middle of Feb.—I do not know where Townsend was before I was taken in custody; I know he has disappeared—the police came to me—I did not propose to "round"—the police told me I should be placed in the dock with Knight—Leach and one of the clerks spoke to me; they suggested that I should give evidence—they didn't tell me what I should get—I expected nothing—I do it purely from instincts of justice—I have been convicted twice, and have been sentenced to penal servitude twice—the police only told me to give evidence.

ALFRED LEACH (Re-examined). I arrested Knight at 8 p.m., coming from his house—when I arrested Scott he was coming from the burglary—Townsend took me to Knight—I did not hear what Townsend said to Knight because he was dealing with some goods—Townsend attends sales; he has a bit of a broker's shop—from what I saw of what passed I was induced to go to Knight's with some goods to sell—Townsend did not even mention my name.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18861025-1098

1098. GEORGE GREEN (30) PLEADED GUILTY to stealing nine bottles of whisky, two bottles, and other property, of Alfred Bate, in his dwelling-house, having been convicted of felony at Lambeth in August, 1886.— Four Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1099

1099. AGNES MADIGAN (36) , Stealing a watch, a chain, a ring, a purse, and 9l. in money, of Joseph Hughes, from his person.

MR. DOUGLASProsecuted; MR. GEOGHEGANDefended

JOSEPH HUGHES . I am a journalist—on 13th October I had dined at Gatti's at 3 o'clock—I had not drunk freely then, but I did afterwards, at the Aquarium—I remember being there at 7 o'clock, but do not remember coming away—I had a Russia leather purse, with about 10l. in it, and a watch and chain—I used my purse at the Aquarium—I do not know the prisoner, I never saw her to my recollection till she was placed in the dock at the police-court—I do not remember getting into a cab; I remember nothing till 7 o'clock next morning, when I found myself at Kennington Road Station—I am under the impression that I was drugged—I missed my diamond ring, purse, and watch; I have not seen them since, but the man who instructed the Counsel for the defence offered me the whole of my property if I would not prosecute.

Cross-examined. I had not three bottles of champagne at the Aquarium—I had some champagne with Mr. Field, the conjuror, I do not know that I had any with Beckwith, the swimmer—I went to the Aquarium between 4 and 5 o'clock—I spoke to a number of people—I knew one or two of them before, and gave them something to drink—I am certain I did not spend the 10l.—I spoke to Field's daughter—I cannot say whether the prisoner and her friend and I were drinking together—I do not think I was ejected from the Aquarium; I can't remember.

HENRY EDWARDS . I am a Hansom's cab driver—on Friday afternoon, October 13th, I was called to the Aquarium, and took up the prisoner and the prosecutor—he had been drinking, but he got in himself—the prisoner told me to drive to York Road, near Waterloo station—she stopped me in Belvedere Road by holding up the prosecutor's hat, and they sat two or three minutes in the cab, talking—I told them I could not stand there wasting my time, and she got out, and asked me to help the prisoner out, which I did—he was very much worse then—they went about a couple of steps, and then she asked me to go to a public-house and see if there was a man there to attend to the cab horse, which I did, and he came, and I took the prosecutor about five yards, and then the prisoner said that she could not have her house disgraced, and told me to put him back in the cab, and drive to a quiet house to have a drink—I drove to Princes Street, where she stopped me; I got down, and she took from the prosecutor's pocket, on the right side of his trousers, a kind of oval purse with two compartments, took out a half-sovereign, and told me to go and get half-a-pint of brandy and something for myself—she took them from me, and told me she wanted to take him for a quiet drive—I asked where she would like to go—she said, "Down the Embankment"—my suspicions were roused, and I saw her wetting a ring on the prosecutor's right hand, and taking it off, and at Blackfriars Bridge she said, "You had better drive over the bridge by St. Thomas's Hospital"—I said, "Westminster Bridge?"—she said, "Yes," and as we neared the bridge I saw her take the prosecutor's watch and put it into her little bag—she told me to drive down York Road, and gave me another half-sovereign—I said, "You have paid me one"—she said, "Are you going to make a b—fool of yourself?"—I said, "Well, the hotel I shall take you to will be the police-station," and when she found I would not take him to an hotel, she told me to drive to the street she lived in—I saw a policeman at the corner of York Road—he ordered me to go to Kennington Road Station—we went down Waterloo Road, and I saw her put something in her side pocket, and she took the watch and threw it behind the prosecutor on the seat, and when she dropped something from the door, and when she saw I noticed it, she said to the constable, "I have dropped something," and going down the New Cut she took the prosecutor's hat and put it over the watch in the corner, and tried to place it in his waistcoat pocket—we then got to the station, and she was charged.

JOHN BAXTER (Policeman L 94). On 13th October, about 9.20 p.m., Edwards, who was driving a cab, spoke to me, and I walked alongside and told him to drive to the station, where I took the prisoner out, and then the prosecutor, who was very drunk—he was charged with being drunk and incapable, and was detained till 3 a.m.—there were many people walking by the cab—I kept a look-out, but did not see anything

thrown away—she made no movement—the prosecutor's watch was in his left breast pocket with the chain hanging down.

Cross-examined. At 2.30 or 3 a.m. he had sufficiently recovered to charge the prisoner—I had not to hold him up while he signed the charge-sheet—she said that the prosecutor had been with her and another woman at the Aquarium, and had three bottles of champagne, but he did not hear that—when the inspector read the charge the prosecutor nodded his head.

GUILTYof unlawfully wounding, they found that verdict. — To enter into recognisances, and find bail to keep the peace for twelve months.

Reference Number: t18861025-1101

1101. JAMES PAULDEN (21) , Robbery with violence on William John Henry Faull, and stealing a watch chain, his property.

MR. LYNEProsecuted; MR. KEITH FRITHDefended.

WILLIAM JOHN HENRY FAULL . I live at Kennington Park—I was close by the clock tower of the church at Newington Butts about 12.55 in the night—I had occasion to stand against a wall, and and the prisoner and two others ran against me, forced me to the ground, and one knelt on my chest, and another one on my arms, while the prisoner stole my chain, value 5l.—I am positive he is the man—as soon as they got off me I shouted "Police!" two or three times, and ran after them as far as the end of the churchyard, where they went different ways—I returned to Newington Butts, and found a policeman guarding my hat; I gave him information—on 12th October I went to the police-station and picked the prisoner out from about six others; I had never seen him before that night—there was a lamp within two yards, burning brightly—this (produced) is a portion of my chain.

Cross-examined. The other men at the station were about the same height and ages, and much about the same style of dress—this took about two minutes.

FRANCIS BOSWELL (Police Sergeant L). Sergeant Ward and I arrested the prisoner on 2nd October; he said nothing.

Witnesses for the Defence.

ALFRED HENRY PAULDEN . I am the prisoner's twin-brother, and am a sorter at the post-office—on 16th October I was with him from about 9 o'clock till we went home together, and went to bed about 12.20; he went downstairs to bed, and I sleep in the parlour—we live at 6, Bainbridge Street, London Road, near the Elephant and Castle; that is about 10 minutes' walk from Newington Butts—we were living in this house with my cousin—he opened the door to us, but it was not locked to my knowledge—I never go to sleep till about an hour after I go to bed, and anybody could not go out without my hearing—I did not hear any one go out.

EMMA HALEY . I am the wife of Charles Henry Haley, of 6, Gaywood Street—on 6th September the prisoner came home with his brother—I am their cousin and landlady—it was 11.45 as near as I can remember—I was sitting up washing when they came, and I closed the door—I sleep on the parlour floor, and the prisoner sleeps in the basement—if any one

went out after that I should have heard him, because I had a little to do after they went to bed, and I did not go to bed till 1 o'clock—he was in his room next morning as usual—his brother was ill with a bad foot, and they came home early three nights running; they did not generally come home together—they are twin-brothers, and are generally together.

Cross-examined. I am sure it had not struck 12 o'clock when they came in.

By theCOURT. He sleeps in the basement—there is an area door, but we always bolt that and the gate, but they are bolted inside; he could get out without coming upstairs.

NOT GUILTY

Reference Number: t18861025-1102

1102. JAMES PAULDEN was again indicted for stealing a watch, the property of John Raymens, from his person.

MR. LYNEProsecuted; MR. KEITH FRITHDefended.

JOHN RAYMENT . I am a printer, of 47, Wells Street, Camberwell—on 11th September, about noon, I was in the New Cut, at the Great Charlotte Street end; I had just come out of a shop—there was a crowd—I passed between the shop and the crowd to get to Blackfriars Road—the prisoner and another man passed from my right hand to my left, saying "You take up all the road"—I stood with my back to the crowd and my face to the window—a man pulled my coat open, and the prisoner took my watch from my left-hand pocket—some one then said "That old gentleman has lost his watch," and I found I had lost it—I did not see him actually take it—a person said "Those are the two crossing the road," pointing to the prisoner and another man—they were not running—I walked after them, laid hold of them, and said "One of you has my watch"—they both said "We have no watch, you can search us"—I said "If you are honest young men stop, and somebody else will be here in a moment," and in about three minutes, whether they saw a policeman coming or not I do not know, but the prisoner broke from my hold and ran; I pursued him through two or three streets, and at last fell against the wall, having heart disease, and I had to give it up—I returned immediately I got my breath, saw a policeman, went down Kennington Road with him, and two of the witnesses came to him at the same time—I next saw the prisoner on 2nd October at the police-station, and identified him—I have not the slightest doubt about him.

Cross-examined. I do not wear spectacles out of doors, only for reading and writing—I was not wearing spectacles that day—there was a great crowd in front of a stall—I saw my watch safe not two minutes before—I looked at it when I came out of the shop within the doorway—I went to the station twice before, once to give information, and once to endeavour to recognise the prisoner, but he was not there—I said before the Magistrate, "There was one man about the same height, and I should suppose about the same age as the prisoner; the prisoner was placed with a number of others in a line; I did not go up and down the line and take a survey of the lot; it took me five minutes to point him out"—he had quite a different dress on when I recognised him to what he had at the time of the robbery, but I can't say what he wore at the time of the robbery—I took notice of his dress, and looked him full in the face—I have not seen my watch since.

ELIZABETH BAYFIELD . I am the wife of George Bayfield, of 109, Stamford Street, a clerk—on 11th September I was in the New Cut;

there was a great crowd—a man pulled the prosecutor's coat open, while the prisoner took his watch—I saw the watch in the prisoner's hand, and saw him put it in his pocket, and he crossed the road; I never lost sight of him—the prosecutor held him, but he ran away—afterwards I picked him out at the station.

Cross-examined. I had never seen him before—there was a great crowd—a sale was on at a pawn shop; there was a deal of hustling and confusion—the prisoner was placed with a number of others—I did not go up and down the line more than once—I pointed him out immediately I went in—this is my signature to my deposition—you tried to baulk me at the police-court, you asked me if I went up and down once or twice, and I said "No"—I said then the detectives told me to touch him—he was dressed like the man who I saw take the watch—he had a dark overcoat and a felt hat—I am certain he is the man.

ELIZABETH DAVIS . I am the wife of Benjamin Charles Davis, a fireman, of 2, St. George's Place, Lambeth—on 11th September, about 12 o'clock, I was in the New Cut, and saw the prisoner and another young man—they said something to the old gentleman which I could not understand—he moved on one side, and a minute afterwards Mrs. Bayfield said "They have taken your watch," and I saw two men going across the road, and the prisoner putting something in his pocket—the prosecutor caught them both by their collars, but the prisoner gave a snatch and ran away, and then he let go of the other one, and ran after the prisoner—I afterwards went to the station and picked the prisoner out from several others.

Cross-examined. I picked him out before Mrs. Bayfield did; I gave a description of him—he had to pass me face to face before I could see his back—when I picked him out he was not wearing an overcoat, but he is the man who took the watch—I was present when Mrs. Bayfield picked him out—he had not then put on an overcoat; he made no change.

ALFRED WARD (Police Sergeant L). On 2nd Oct. I took the prisoner in the centre of a crowd where a sale of grapes was going on in Great Charles Street—I told him he answered the description of one of two men who were wanted for a robbery committed two weeks ago—he said "All right; I will go with you"—he said at the station "I was with my brother at the boat race on that day"—he was placed with several others as near to his description as we could get, and was picked out without hesitation by all three witnesses—he was not wearing the coat he now wears—he was in a little body coat.

Cross-examined. I am referring to September 11th; that was not the day he was arrested on the former charge—he has only been arrested once—I have no note of what he said—I heard the Magistrate order the witnesses out of Court, but I remained, and the Magistrate approved of it—he decided that I was not a witness, and that there was no reason for my leaving—I was not a witness as to what occurred.

Witnesses for the Defence.

EMMA HALEY . I am the wife of Charles Haley, a waiter of 6, Gay-wood Street, London Road, Southwark—the prisoner lodged with us—on 11th September he was at home till after 1 o'clock—from the last day in July till September 18th he used to work for me every Saturday till 1 o'clock to clean the chicken-house and windows, and sweep up the place,

and on the 18th he went to the boat race—he left my house on 11th September about 10 minutes or a quarter-past 1, and returned at night.

Cross-examined. He is a waiter; I am his cousin—I remember the 11th, because I had a large kitchen table made in the yard, and the prisoner swept all the chips up—it was the 18th that he went to the 'boatrace, not the 16th—a woman lodger was upstairs in the house.

AMELIA PAIN . I am the wife of William Pain, of 6, Gay wood Street—the prisoner lodges there; I am not able to say what time he left the house on 11th September, but I saw him at 12.55; he was not ready to leave then—I did not see him again—he was in his shirt sleeves—I have seen him messing about the yard, sweeping and cleaning it down, and beating mats—he kept fowls.

Cross-examined. I saw him at 12.55, and did not see him again till 11.30—I have got a clock, and looked at it, because I was going out for my dinner beer.

GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

There was another indictment against the prisoner.

Reference Number: t18861025-1103

1103. ARTHUR YOUNG , Stealing two sewing machines, the property of the Wheeler and Wilson Sewing Machine Company.

MR. MEADProsecuted.

JOHN ELSTON . I am an inquiry agent to Messrs. Wheeler and Wilson, sewing machine manufacturers, 21, Queen Victoria Street—in January, 1884, John Beard, who was in our service, brought an order for a sewing machine, and I sent one, value 8l. 5s., to Edward Young, by W. J. Day, a carman—it was let on hire, and this (produced) is the agreement, signed "Frederick Young," which was the name Mr. Beard gave us, and we also supplied Frederick Young with another machine, at the same address, about the same time—this is the agreement—about 21 days afterwards I called at Champion Hill and saw the prisoner and his brother and one of the machines, I can't say which—I told the prisoner he must keep up his payments; he had done so up to that time—I went a second time and saw both the machines; one of them had broken down and I put it right—that was about two months after the hiring—the agreement says, "Not to be removed without the written consent of the company"—I did not give a written consent to remove them—when I called the third time the house was closed and the shutters up at 3 o'clock in the day, and to all appearance the house was empty—I have never been able to trace the machines—I was a witness here when Frederick Young, the other hirer., was tried. (See Vol. CI. p. 210.)

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I let one machine to you—I cannot swear that my traveller, Mr. Beard, did not have it back, but the company never received it—1l. was paid off—Mr. Beard left about June, 1884.

Re-examined. It has never been brought to the office—if it was given to Mr. Beard he would return it, and we should know it—it had not been returned when I gave evidence on 21st October, 1884—I do not think Mr. Beard was examined then, but he was up at the police-court.

WALTER JAMES DAY . I was a carman in Messrs. Wheeler and Wilson's employ—on 12th February I delivered a sewing machine to A. Young, 3, Melbourne Grove, and the prisoner signed this agreement

in my presence, and also my delivery-book—on February 7th I delivered another machine, which was signed for by F. Young.

SAMUEL QUINT . I am landlord of 3, Doveridge Terrace, which I let to Frederick Young; I also saw the prisoner, and understood him to be Frederick Young's brother—I put in a distress for the March quarter's rent, and was paid out—before the next quarter day the defendant left, taking his effects with him—I have never been paid the rent.

Cross-examined. I let the shop to your brother.

STANLEY ROGERS (Policeman P 129). I had charge of an empty house next door to the defendant's shop; I saw him there—I remember the tenant removing on 10th May at a few minutes before 6 o'clock—I saw the prisoner helping a man named Randall to remove the goods—a warrant was issued soon after for his apprehension—I looked for him, but could not find him.

Cross-examined. I saw you in the passage bringing things to the door, and Randall taking them from you; I stood there in uniform about 20 minutes and saw you.

Re-examined. When I gave evidence before, the prisoner was not in the dock.

CHARLES VINEY (Detective P). On 8th September, on the prisoner's liberation from Wandsworth Prison on another charge, I told him I should take him for being concerned with his brother already convicted in obtaining goods by fraud—I read the warrant to him—he said, "I know I helped to do it, but I thought after so long a time you would not have taken me"—I had been looking for him ever since, and could not find him until I saw him at Lambeth Police-court two months ago.

Cross-examined. You did not say, "What is this for?"—the Governor asked if the officer was about to remove you, and you were handed over to me—you had previously written a letter to me, asking me to come that you might give me information respecting some long firm swindles.

The prisoner in his defence stated that although he had had the machine Mr. Bend took it away because he could not keep the pagments up, on the Saturday before he removed on the Monday; that he did not abscond, but got a situation, and did not know there was a warrant out against him; that he had nothing to do with the shop, and only went there because he had lent his brother money.

CHARLES VINEY (Re-examined). The defendant bore a dishonest character when he was carrying on this business.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

There were other indictments against the prisoner.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18861025-1104

1104. JOHN RAYMENT (21) , Unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it.

MR. POLANDProsecuted.

GEORGE DOCKRELL (Policeman L 55). On 16th September, about 12.30 in the day, I was with Burton in Wellington Street, Strand, and saw the prisoner coming down Wellington Street on the Covent Garden side of the Strand—we were in plain clothes—we followed him—he crossed the Strand, jumped on the tailboard of a van, and rode across Waterloo Bridge—the van began to trot, and I ran behind a cab and overtook it on the Waterloo side—I took hold of the prisoner and pulled him off the

van, and said, "You know me "(he knew me perfectly well), "I suspect you have something about you you ought not to have, I am going to search you"—he said, "I suppose you saw me pick up a parcel on Waterloo Bridge?"—I said, "I know nothing about a parcel"—we took him into the private bar of the Feathers public-house, and Burton put his hand in his right-hand trousers pocket and took out a small parcel containing two counterfeit shillings wrapped in separate pieces of paper—while Burton was examining it I put my hand in the same pocket and took out these two other packets—I said, "You will have to go with us to the station"—he said, "I picked them up on Waterloo Bridge; I have been over to see Mr. Collins, the foreman slater to Mr. Bywater, builder, Pink Street, Regent Street, for a job, and on my way back I picked the parcel up on Waterloo Bridge"—he picked nothing whatever up, he rode all the way over the bridge—I charged him at the station, and he made the same reply—he gave his address, "1, Short Street, New Cut, Lambeth"—I went there, that is his father's address—I also inquired at Collin's, and found the prisoner was employed there off and on.

GEORGE BURTON (Policeman L 131). I was with Dockrell in plain clothes, and followed the prisoner—we first saw him in Wellington Street, Strand—he rode all the way over the bridge, and picked up no parcel—I put my hand in his pocket and found a packet containing two counterfeit shillings, wrapped separately in paper—he said, "I suppose you saw me pick the parcel up on Waterloo Bridge?"—I said, "No, I saw you ride over the bridge."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These six shillings are bad, and one of the two produced by Burton is from the same mould as two of the others.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I picked them up on Waterloo Bridge."

GUILTY *.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1105

1105. GEORGE BLACK (29) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. POLANDProsecuted.

JOHN WILIAMSON . I am a letter-carrier and harness-maker, of 585 and 587, Old, Kent Road—on 7th September, about 8.20, the prisoner came in for a top piece and some roots, which came to 6d.—he gave me what appeared to be a half-crown—I put it in the till, where there were no others, and gave him change—he seemed in a great hurry to get out—a few minutes afterwards my wife went to the till, and called my attention to the half-crown; I found it was bad, and kept it by itself—on 22nd September the prisoner came in again for some sticking stuff—I recommended him to have some glue, and while I was talking to him I recognised his voice—he gave me a florin for the glue; I put it in the tester, found it was bad, and told him I had had quite enough of these from him and did not require any more—he said, "Is it a bad one?"—I said, "Yes, it is"—he said, "Here is a good one in the place of it," and demanded it back—my wife put her back against the door and said, "Don't let him go, this is the same man again"—he insisted on going and having his money back, and used very bad language; he rushed downstairs—my wife told him he would be worse off down there, as there were some men at work—he rushed out into the street, leaving a good florin on the counter as well as the bad one—a policeman brought him back—these are the bad coins (produced).

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I gave you change for the good florin—I had taken a bad half-crown on 31st August; I do not know that that had anything to do with you; I threw it the canal—I said at the police-court that I had made a mistake in the date, I rectified it at once—it was the 7th when you first came, and the 22nd when I detained you.

EMILY WILLIAMSON . I am the wife of the last witness—I was in the shop on 7th September when he gave my husband a half-crown; there was no other half-crown in the till, I was keeping it empty—he had his change and left—I afterwards found a half-crown there which was bad—on 22nd September I saw the prisoner in the shop again and recognised him by his voice and his face; I am quite sure he is the man that was there on the 7th—I shut the door and said, "We have had quite enough of your bad money, you are not to go out of the shop"—I stood with my back to the door—he said, "If you don't move I will knock you down"—I called my son to fetch a policeman; the prisoner made a rush to go downstairs—I said, "You will be worse on down there"—he got out another way, but was brought back and given in custody.

Cross-examined. I said, "We have had quite sufficient of your money"—we had taken 7s. in bad money in three weeks and you had been in the shop—you had a different dress each time.

JOHN WILMOT (Policeman M 57). I was on duty near Mr. Williamson's shop—his son spoke to me; I went towards the shop and saw the prisoner crossing the road from that direction—immediately he saw me he took his hat in his hand and ran in and out among the traffic—I caught him and he was charged—he said to Mr. Williamson, "You old scoundrel, I will make you pay for this; I am innocent"—he gave his name at the station, "George Black, 4, John Street West," that is in Blackfriars Road—he also gave another address to another officer, "10, Wardour Street"—no money was found on him.

Cross-examined. You did not say 4, John Street West, Marylebone.

ARABELLA CLARK . I have lived at 4, John Street West, Blackfriars Road, five years; it is a private house—I do not know the prisoner; I never saw him in my life.

JABEZ EDGAR WALLER . I am clerk to Mr. Addie, ironmonger, of 10, Wardour Street—it is a workshop; no one lives there—I do not know the prisoner.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This half-crown and florin are bad.

Prisoner's Defence. I am a dealer in fancy goods. As to the 2s. piece I can't say whether it is mine or not; if it is I took it from a customer. I am quite as liable to take a bad coin as anybody else. I know nothing about the half-crown. I was at the Forester's fete on 31st August. He said it was on a Wednesday, and neither August 31st or September 7th were on a Wednesday.

JOHN WILLIAMSON . I did not mistake the 31st August as the day he came there before instead of 7th September—I said that we began to take bad coins before August 31st.

GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1106

1106. WILLIAM JONES , Unlawfully, by wanton and furious driving, causing bodily harm to George Woolmington.

p.m., I was on duty at West Hill, Wandsworth, and heard a crash—I looked in that direction and saw a lot of people shuffling about, and immediately I saw a horse and light spring cart coming in my direction at the rate of from 10 to 12 miles an hour—I held up both hands and shouted "Stop"—when he got within a short distance of me I saw the driver held the reins, but he lowered them—I jumped for them; they were slack, I missed them—the shaft caught me in the right side and knocked me completely round, and the wheel went over my hip—I got up and walked towards the station, just outside of which it had happened; some one helped me—I saw the doctor that night and have been under his care ever since—I am still unfit to resume duty, and I am afraid I shall remain so for some considerable time—I was in uniform—I saw no vehicle other than the prisoner's—when he lowered the reins he was sitting on the driving seat.

Cross-examined. I was about 130 yards from where I was run over when I heard the crash; I ran in the direction from which it came—the collision occurred close to the Rose and Crown, I believe, at the beginning of the High Street—I did not see the trap with which the prisoner came into collision—several vehicles had passed me just before, going towards London; the prisoner was going towards Kingston from London—the prisoner's horse and cart were brought back by a sergeant and constable to the station afterwards—I saw the horse outside when I was taken home by two constables—I did not examine it, and did not see it had a piece cut out of its shoulder—it was a tradesman's cart with one seat across it I should think—I could not say if there was a back to the seat—there were three persons in the cart, they all appeared to be the same size; they were all sitting on the same seat—the cart was on me not a minute after the collision, I should think—I could not say if the prisoner was moving on the seat when the reins dropped; I only saw his hands go down.

JOHN WOODROFFE . I am a printer, of West Hill, Wandsworth—on 24th August, between 9 and 10, I was at my door—I saw a waggonette pass in the direction of London, and immediately after I saw a horse and cart driven by the prisoner approaching and going towards Kingston—the waggonette was going down a slight incline—there was a row of traps in front of the Rose and Crown, which is separated from the Swan by an eating house—I heard a shout, and looking in that direction I saw the prisoner's cart coming up on the right hand side of the road—he appeared to me to pull to the left, to try and avoid the waggonette, but they collided—the waggonette had kept to his side, by the side of the vehicles—the prisoner did not pull up, although called on to do so; he appeared to take no notice—he did not seem to have lost control of his horse—I saw him strike it, I think once, immediately after the collision—the horse then went on at about 10 miles an hour, I should think—it was not a fast horse, I should think, by any means—it went in the direction of Kingston and down the road to where a constable was standing; he went out into the road and put his hands up—the prisoner did not stop in any way—I ran after the cart and I think I called out "Stop him;" I was rather excited—the constable was knocked down and the cart went over him—I caught hold of the cart at the time it was stopped; it was then not more than 30 yards from where the constable had fallen, and 130 or 150 from where the collision occurred.

Cross-examined. It may have been stopped within less than 30 yards, but now I think of the distance it was full 30 yards, I think—I went to the station afterwards and saw the horse—I did not examine it, and did not see its shoulder was injured—the waggonette was coming towards London down the hill—there were vehicles standing on the near side—the waggonette did not exactly pull out to pass them—it was as close to them as it could be—the waggonette was pretty nearly in the middle of the road—but I think four vehicles might pass there; there is ample room for three—I have got by in a fourth; many times—you come down High Street, and then go up the hill—the prisoner was driving up the hill—I did not notice a vehicle in front of him when the collision occurred—he appeared to me to pull to the near side to avoid the collision—I was 50 yards from the collision at least, in front of the cart—I heard it; there was a crash—I did not notice at that moment or as he passed me the prisoner getting back into his seat—there were two other men with him in the cart; they all appeared firmly seated when they passed—I saw him whip the horse in front of Mr. Orchard's shop, where the road turns—I did not look to see where the whip was after the prisoner had been knocked down when I came up to the cart—I am not prepared to say the whip was not in the socket when the cart was stopped.

Re-examined. I am not prepared to say where it was; I did not notice it—I think there is a fair amount of room for four vehicles to drive abreast—I believe I have done it myself, for it is a very crowded road in the middle of the day.

By theJURY. I seized hold of the back of the cart, and another man the son's coat tail, that disarranged the seat, and appeared to stop the cart—it was just stopping at the moment I caught hold of it.

HENRY ESLING . I live at 68, Lansdowne Road, Clapham, and drive a horse and trap for my father—on this night I was driving a waggonette down High Street towards London—as I got about to the bottom of the hill I saw the prisoner driving a light spring cart and horse in the opposite direction—I was going down on my near side, and he was coming up on the same side, his right-hand side—I called out to him; he seemed to take no notice, and he came into collision with my waggonette by driving on—his shaft cut my horse; I said it scratched it, but it was a cut—the prisoner drove on; he did not stop; he used his whip after he got out of my way, trying to escape—he whipped his horse, and went on till he was stopped—he was coming towards me at the rate of 12 or 14 miles an hour, I should say, and when he left me and drove on he went at a considerable pace.

Cross-examined. I did not examine his horse, and cannot say if my shaft damaged it; I have not inquired—my shaft did not touch his horse—I think my father has claimed for the damages to his horse and trap in the County Court—I left father to inquire what damage had been done—I drove father down to Surbiton to see if he could come to an agreement instead of coming into Court—I did not see the horse then; I heard them speaking about a piece being taken out of the horse's shoulder, but I am sure my shaft did not do it—I think I said before the Magistrate that the prisoner whipped his horse after the collision (Deposition read)—it appears I did not say a word about the prisoner whipping the horse then—he had a whip in his possession—I swear he did nothing to avoid the collision, but drove straight into me.

Re-examined. He did not pull to his near side at all—I was not aware that night that any injury was inflicted to his horse by my shaft, or any part of my vehicle—my horse was cut.

CHARLES ORCHARD . I am a butcher, of 7, Adam's Terrace, Putney Bridge Road—on this night I was on West Hill, and saw the collision, and the prisoner driving away after it—he had a whip, and whipped the horse after the collision to make it spurt on—he went towards Wimbledon—I saw the constable get out into the road, and put up his hands for him to stop, and the cart knocked him down, and went over him—I saw the horse then run on the pavement, and it was eventually stopped, perhaps, 20 yards from where the constable was knocked down—I ran after it, after I saw the collision, and called to the prisoner to stop—he did not.

Cross-examined. I was crossing over to the Rose and Crown, when I saw the collision, in front of the waggonette—I should not like to say how many times he used the whip—there was a crash between the vehicles; I don't know about a jerk—the shouts came from the waggonette.

Re-examined. When I ran after him and called on him to stop, he was sitting on the right hand side of the cart on the seat board.

ByMR. AVORY. I did not see that he was knocked off the seat; they were all three sitting on the seat when I saw them.

ByMR. MATHEWS. When I saw them directly after the collision he was sitting on the seat.

BENJAMIN SMITH (Police Sergeant V). I was at Wandsworth Police-station on 24th August, and heard shouting, and "Stop him" outside—I ran out and saw the prisoner driving a horse and spring cart at a furious rate—I shouted to him to stop—he did not—I ran beside him about 30 yards; Meredith, another constable, seized the horse's head and stopped him—the prisoner was sitting on the seat—I called to him to get out; he said "All right, policeman," and got out—he was sober—I took him to the station, and charged him with furious driving; he made no reply.

Cross-examined. He did not appear very much upset at having run over the constable; he was sober, he might have had some drink—I can run very fast for about 30 yards—the horse was galloping; I did not examine it.

JAMES MEREDITH (Policeman V 431). I am stationed at Wandsworth—on 24th August I was on West Hill, and heard shouts of "Stop him"—I saw the prisoner driving a horse and trap up the High Street towards me—the horse was galloping—I did not see the collision with the other trap—Woolmington went into the middle of the road, held up his hands, and tried to stop the cart; he was knocked down and the cart went over him—the prisoner drove on still in my direction—I stopped the horse; the prisoner was charged at the station.

ARTHUR DUNVILLE ROW , M.R.C.S., M.B. I am divisional surgeon of police at Wandsworth—at 10 o'clock on 24th August I was called to the police station, where I saw Woolmington, who was suffering from a contusion of both hips, with a fracture of part of the hip on the left side, and sprain of the back—those injuries were perfectly consistent with his having been run over by a cart—he has remained under my treatment ever since; he is unable to resume his duty, and he may remain so for some months yet.

GEORGE WOOLMINGTON (Re-examined). I have heard that the prisoner has offered the Commissioners to compensate me for my injuries.

Witnesses for the Defence.

JOHN JONES . I am the prisoner's son, and live at King Charles's Dairy, Brown Road, Surbiton Hill, where my father has carried on business as a dairyman for 26 years—on 24th August I was out with him and my brother driving back in the cart from London to Kingston—going down Wandsworth High Street we saw three other vehicles in the road; a waggon was standing still on the right hand side, and Esling was coming down West Hill with his waggonette in the middle of the road, and then there was a spring cart going towards Kingston in front of us on the left hand side; we were keeping on the right hand side, and Esling turned his horse right towards us, and cut right across to us; the result of that was a collision between us, and the point of his shaft ran into our horse's shoulder—our horse immediately jumped forward and shied and backed, and there were people screaming in the waggonette, and he took fright; the seat dropped down in the cart, and my father lost power over the reins, and away the horse went; my father did not use the whip at all after the collision; I am sure of that—he was doing what he could to stop the horse; he was trying to pull up the reins with all his might, and trying to prevent himself from falling down, by putting his hand on the side of the cart—the horse went away before he could get his reins up—directly he got up and got the reins he stopped the horse as soon as he could—when we stopped, the whip was in the socket—we turned and came back to the police station—I there examined the horse and found this cut in the shoulder; it was about three inches long and down to the bone—Aspin saw the horse shortly afterwards—we were all perfectly sober; we had had nothing to drink.

Cross-examined. We had come to the commencement of the hill when the waggonette was coming down—we were on the left-hand side of the road I am sure, not in the middle; we were not as far as we could get on the near side, but there was room for two to pass us—my father, who was driving, did not pull in any way to the near side to avoid a collision, he drove straight on on our proper side—he had not the whip in his hand then, he did not take it in his hand after the collision; it remained in the socket till the constable stopped us—I am positive my father never had it in his hand—he did not hit the horse after the collision—the whip is a hard thing to get out of the socket, it can be taken out—the swing of the cart might give one the impression that the whip was being used—the seat fell at the time of the collision; it was fixed by two little irons on each side, which go into holes; there is a back to it, and it goes right across the cart—the sudden jerk of the stopping would raise the seat up and chuck it down again in the cart—my father fell on the top of me and my brother; we were all at the bottom of the cart—we were not all three sitting on the seat, which was in its proper place, at that time; before the collision we were all sitting on the seat—we did not flounder at the bottom of the cart half a minute, then my father stood up in the cart with the reins in his hand, he collected them directly he could; they were entangled in our legs as we lay at the bottom of the cart—when he got the reins we drove on—I heard a good many shouts of "Stop"—a policeman ran at the side and called on us to stop; my father had got the reins at that time and was

trying to stop—we went about 150 yards after the collision, and about 30 after the constable had been knocked down—I did not see the constable in the middle of the road holding up his hands, nor did I hear him call out, because so many called out—the police did not stop the horse, I am sure; it was my father alone who stopped it, he had the reins at that time.

Re-examined. The policeman had got hold of the horse's head when we stopped him; my father was pulling at the reins at the time—directly we got in front of the constable he jumped off the path and ran into the road to us, and the shaft knocked him down—the seat pins which go into the socket are about an inch long, and if the seat jerks up it sometimes jerks one end out—we did not stop at the bottom of the cart longer than we could help—we could not put the seat up till we stopped.

THOMAS JONES . I am the prisoner's son, and was out with him and my brother driving to Kingston on this night—we were going about five or six miles an hour before the collision occurred—the collision was the fault of the young man driving the waggonette—injury was done to our horse by his shaft; I saw the blood running down from his shoulder—on the collision the seat jumped out of its socket and fell to the bottom of the cart—my father did not whip the horse at all after the collision till after it was stopped—the whip was in the socket—ours is a dogcart—when the seat upset, father fell to the bottom of the cart, and the horse plunged and the reins fell from his hands; I saw his hand on the side of the cart when he rose, and that would be close to the whip socket—I saw the constable just as he ran to the shaft; I saw him fall—a number of people were shouting; there was a great noise—my father did what he could to the horse after he had run over the policeman; he had a chance to get the reins in his hands then—he had no means of stopping the horse up to that time, he was getting the reins up—he did nothing to urge it on.

Cross-examined. I did not see the constable before he fell, nor did I hear him call to us—we were on the left hand side coming to West Hill, following another cart, and we were one or two feet from the curb—it is a wide road there; there was room for two or three to pass—father pulled to the off side to pass the trap in front, and at that point to collision occurred—I did not see him use the whip up to or after the collision—I did not see him take it in his hand—I heard people calling "Stop;" we were plunging about then—I did not fall to the bottom, but at the back; I caught myself: nor did my brother fall—my father fell because the horse gave such a chuck—he got up directly, but he had not got upright, not to get his reins, when he ran over the policeman—the seat was not put back—he did not stand up with the reins in his hand—when he ran over the policeman he was just getting up, he was not standing up.

WILLIAM ASPIN . I am a licensed victualler at Surbiton, and a horsebroker—I saw the prisoner and his horse on the night of 24th August; it was so dark I did not examine the horse—I saw some mud and blood on its shoulder—I saw it when the wound was almost healed up.

By theJURY. The horse was about four years old, not quite 15 hands high.

when the prisoner was convicted at Kingston County Bench—there were two charges against him, one of being drunk while in charge of a horse and cart, that was dismissed; and the other for cruelly to a horse, he was convicted of that and fined 1l. and costs.

Cross-examined. I was the only witness against him—I charged him with drunkenness as well, that was dismissed.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1107

1107. WILLIAM JONES was again indicted for feloniously injuring George Woolmington, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. MATHEWS, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.

NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18861025-1108

1108. ALFRED STEVENS (33) and ALFRED RYAN (26) , Stealing 36 copies of the Graphic, the goods of H. R. Baines and Co., Limited, the masters of Stevens. Second Count, Receiving the same.

MR. PURCELLProsecuted; MR. GEOGHEGANdefended Stevens.

FREDERICK HOLMESF (City Policeman). About a quarter-past 11 on Friday morning, 17th September, I was with Cox in Fleet Street, where we saw Ryan, whom we knew before—we followed him into the Strand—he passed the Graphic office, 190, and went to the corner of Wellington Street, where he was joined by Stevens—neither of them were carrying anything—I then followed them across Waterloo Bridge into the Belvedere Road, Lambeth, where Stevens turned into College Street, and I lost sight of him—Ryan meantime had turned into a public-house, the Rising Sun, at the far end of Vine Street—about five minutes afterwards we saw Stevens coming along Vine Street from the direction of College Street, carrying this parcel under his arm and a jug in his hand—he entered the Rising Sun, and went into the compartment Ryan was in—after about two minutes both prisoners came out together, Ryan carrying the parcel, and Stevens the jug; after a short conversation they parted—Cox went after Stevens, and I followed Ryan—I overtook him in the York Road and said "You know me, I am a police officer;" he said "Yes"—I said "What have you got there?" pointing to the parcel; Ryan said "Paper"—I said "What have you got inside of it?" he said "A few Graphics"—I said "Where did you get them from?" he said "I have just bought them from the publishing office in the Strand"—I said "I shall take you into custody, you will be charged with being concerned with another man in the unlawful possession of them"—he said nothing—I said "Where are you going to take them to?" he said "That is my business"—I took him to the station—the parcel contained 36 copies of the Graphic of the 17th September issue.

Cross-examined byMR. GEROGHEGAN. I first saw Ryan by Anderton's Hotel—I was merely walking up and down Fleet Street, I did not go on—purpose to watch for Ryan—I was not detailed by the proprietors of the Graphic to watch any person going to their premises—I can't say if there was beer in Stevens's jug—you can buy Graphics in London on Friday, although they are dated Saturday—I don't know if you can get them at Liverpool on Friday, I should think so—they are printed at Milford Lane, Strand—I do not know that there is only one entrance to that place.

Cross-examined by Ryan. You were about two minutes in the public-house—I stopped you a few yards from it—you did not reply "I suppose the Graphic office" when I asked you where you got them—you said you bought them there; not that you supposed they came from there.

Re-examined. I am quite sure he said he bought them from the publishing office in the Strand—I gave that evidence before the Magistrate.

HENRY COX (City Detective). I was with Holmes, and saw Ryan in Fleet Street—he passed the Graphic office without going in, and was joined by Stevens at the corner of Wellington Street—we followed them across Waterloo Bridge into Belvedere Road; they separated in College Street—I saw Ryan go into the Rising Sun—Stevens came about five minutes afterwards carrying this parcel, which neither had had before, under his arm—shortly after they came out of the public-house Ryan was carrying the parcel—they stopped outside, and then separated—I followed and overtook Stevens—I said to him "I am a detective from the City; where is that parcel you have taken into the public-house?"—he said "What parcel? I know nothing about a parcel"—I told him I should charge him with being concerned with another man with the unlawful possession of this parcel—he said "I know nothing of a parcel or man either"—I took him to the station, where he was charged; he gave the address, 16, College Street—it was in that direction he went when he left Ryan, and he came back to Ryan at the Rising Sun from the direction of College Street—No. 16 is about 100 yards from the public-house—when Stevens was charged at the police-station he made no reply.

Cross-examined byMR. GEOGHEGAN. Ryan was a few minutes, it might be five, down Wellington Street before Stevens joined him—I believe the Graphic office opens to the general public at 10 a.m.

Cross-examined by Ryan. You stopped at the corner of Milford Lane four or five minutes—you were out of sight when I arrested Stevens—Stevens was carrying a jug with beer in it when I stopped him.

JOHN PARSONS . I am manager of the printing department of the Graphic—Stevens has been employed by the proprietors for 13 or 14 years as a printer's labourer—he is employed generally on Wednesday afternoon, Thursday, Thursday night, and Friday afternoon, sometimes longer, and he is put on one of the folding machines—different portions of the Graphic are completed on different days of the week; each portion as printed is taken to the folding-room, and Stevens's duty was to take the completed portion and put it on the folding machine—on Thursday night we run the machine from 8 o'clock continuously, so that we have three men to do the work of two, and each man works two hours and rests one—Stevens would do so, and at the end of two hours he would be entitled to go off the premises and then come on for another two hours—he would several times go off the premises during his spell of work—at the premises in Milford Lane about 200 hands are employed altogether—in that particular department there were 47 that week—the same rule applies to the men on the printing machine, two hours on and one off, so that at a certain time a number of men would be going off the premises—no doubt they get a little opportunity if they think proper of taking out a portion of the paper with them—copies of the Graphic have been missing to the extent of 300 or 400 some weeks—it is the property of H. R. Baines and Co., Limited—these copies were published that week—the earliest time at which copies are sold to the general trade is 10 o'clock on Friday morning—at 4 a.m. they are delivered to wholesale agents for the country—a person in the folding department could abstract the last part of a completed number at 6 or 7 o'clock on Thursday evening.

at 6 o'clock—the last, portion which is finished is the first-page portion—Stevens's duty is to lay the paper on the printing machine—the head of the warehouse department is Mr. Perkins—Stevens was responsible to Mr. Labron; he would be there the whole time—various lads take the papers away from the folding machine; we have relays of lads—Filkins, the warehouseman, would look after the lads—he and Mr. Labron have general supervision of that room—the doors of the printing establishment are locked at 11 o'clock at night—I know nothing about a detective being put on—we have made no effort to find this out so far as I know, although we have been missing 300 or 400 copies a week—that has been going on for about nine months—we have not communicated with the police, and had done nothing—there is a commissionaire at the door; everybody leaving the premises must pass by him—if a person had a bulky and suspicious appearance he would stop him and inquire what he had, and if the answer was not satisfactory he would search him most likely, or call somebody to do so—the commissionaire keeps the key when the doors are looked at 11 o'clock—there is only one exit, and everybody must go to the commissionaire to get the key from 11 o'clock till 6 a.m.—another comes on at 8 o'clock—I could not say these things had been taken between 11 and 8 o'clock—the prisoner was on the night shift on Thursday night; during the whole of that time a commissionaire was on duty—we employ altogether 200 or 250 men—after the Graphics leave Stevens's room they go down the lift to the publishing office on the ground floor—that is opened at 10 o'clock to the public—three clerks are employed in that office; only one of them sells; I think he is not here—persons who want copies for the newspaper train for the country, come to the office at 4 a.m. with tickets—the earliest issue on the London market is 10 o'clock—Stevens has been with us ever since we started the office—he bears the character of one of the most honest men we have had; he was always steady, quiet, and did his work well—the returns of the Graphic are done in the publishing department—so many sheets of imprinted paper go out, so many printed ones are returned, and we count the spoilt ones too; they are bound to be returned—I cannot say whether these copies have been sold or not—we lost 100 copies—from what I have been told we were about 200 sheets of paper short this week.

Re-examined. Persons have been stopped by the commissionaires as they were coming out—some of them have been prosecuted.

THOMAS LABRON . I am a warehouseman in the prosecutors' employment—on the 17th Stevens was employed there—I last saw him there at 11 o'clock on that day—he had been employed in the course of the Thursday night in the regular way.

Cross-examined byMR. GEOGHEGAN. He told me he was going out a little after 11 a.m.; he had not to ask me for leave, we had done printing—I did not notice he had anything concealed under his clothes, no bundle of Graphics.

CHARLES WALTON . I am clerk to the solicitor for the prosecution—I served a notice on Ryan in Holloway Gaol, on 25th September, that it was intended to prove at this trial that he had been convicted of stealing.

JAMES BOLTON (Warder at Her Majesty's Prison, Holloway). I produce this certificate of the conviction of Matthew Ryan, in May, 1882, for stealing 100 copies of the Girl's Own Paper, the property of James

Judd and others—the Ryan spoken of in that indictment is the prisoner—he was then sentenced to fifteen months, hard labour at this Court.

The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Stevens says: "The copies were given to me by a man, and I asked the prisoner Ryan to hold them while I took down the beer, as I was going to take them back to the man who gave them to me. I never took them from the Graphic printing office at all." Ryan says: "I reserve my defence."

Ryan, in his defence, stated that he met Stevens, and that they both wanted to go to Waterloo Station; that he waited in the public-house, and that Stevens asked him to hold the Graphics whilst he took the beer home, and that while waiting for his return he was taken into custody.

JOHN PARSONS (Re-examined). No receipts are given when people buy Graphics—they are sold in 5 quires, or in 9, 18, or 27 copies—36 copies, 4 nines, would be a complement usually sold without invoice, name, or anything.

1109. WILLIAM JEPP, Feloniously wounding James Bateman, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. SAUNDERSProsecuted.

JAMES BATEMAN . I am a fly driver, and live in Strathmore Road, St. James's Road, Croydon—on 3rd September last I went into the Oakfield Tavern about 7 o'clock; I was by myself—the prisoner was there when I went in, and several other people, including a Mr. Shoebridge—I was talking to Miss Dowden, the barmaid, when the prisoner said to her, "You are a nasty, dirty little faggot, and you have no business to be behind the bar; you are almost as bad as the girls who are on the town"—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself for using such language; he then turned upon me and called me everything he could lay his tongue to—I cannot remember what it was, it was very filthy language—he said he had killed men and women wholesale in America—he appeared to be quite sober—I saw him take a pair of scissors from his pocket and rub them up and down as if he was sharpening them—that was after he had called me these names—I left him and went into a private compartment—I heard him going out—I came out of the private compartment and saw him coming out—I asked him if he would apologise—he said, "I have done nothing to apoligise for, and he would see me b—first"—he then went out—some three or four minutes afterwards I and Shoebridge went out together to go home; I saw the prisoner standing in the middle of the road, six or seven yards from the public-house; I could not say to a yard—I had to pass him to go home—when I got up to him I did not speak to him, nor he to me, but he made a blow at me—I guarded it off as well as I possibly could with my arm; immediately afterwards I received another blow over my eye, which I found was a blow with some sharp instrument—I did not see how he gave me the blow: it struck me just under the eye, and again just by the eyebrow; the first time he only struck me with his fist; he made the one blow and then the two stabs with the scissors—I called out that I was stabbed, and fell back into some one's arms; I don't know who it was

—I did not touch the prisoner at all from first to last—I don't remember anything that occurred afterwards—I am in a good deal of pain at present—I am rather frightened that I shall lose my other eye, it seems rather dim at times.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You struck at me twice—I saw the scissors in your hand at the public-house, not outside it—I and my friend could not both get out of the public-house together—I do not suppose there were two seconds between us in coming out—I cannot say if you had a brown paper parcel in your hand at the time I felt the cut; I never saw it—I put my hands up to guard the blow—I cannot say that both your hands were up—I don't recollect your walking backwards.

Re-examined. There was no scuffle of any kind, I am quite sure.

By the Prisoner. "We had no conversation in the public-house about travelling; we had no conversation at all till the barmaid spoke.

By theCOURT. The barmaid never said a word—I told the prisoner myself that he ought to be ashamed of himself—the barmaid made no remark about it.

JAMES SHOEBRIDGE . I live at 22, Devonshire Road, Croydon, and am a smith—on 3rd September, about 7 p.m., I was in the Oakfield Tavern with the prisoner; he came in after I was there—the prosecutor came in afterwards—I had never seen him before—the prisoner began to insult almost everybody who came there by calling them English b—s and different things not fit to mention—the landlady's daughter told him to hold his noise, because they could hardly hear one another speaking—he then began to use filthy language towards her—after a little time the prosecutor told him that she was the landlady's daughter—he said if it was the landlady's daughter or the landlady she would not have allowed it, or she would have corrected him—the prosecutor told him it was the landlady's daughter, and then he began to call the prosecutor all the names he could think of—the prisoner took these scissors out of his coat pocket after he had begun to talk to the prosecutor, and rubbed them up and down his trousers like a barber would sharpen his razors, and he said "I have killed men and women by wholesale in British America"—as he was going out, the prosecutor asked him to apologise—he refused, and went out—I could not tell what he did with the scissors before he went out, or at the time—a few minutes afterwards Bateman went out, and I followed close behind him, within four or five yards—we crossed the road on our way home—the prisoner was standing in the roadway; it was impossible for us to avoid passing him—as soon as the prosecutor got near him the prisoner came at him—the prosecutor put his arms up, and said "He has stabbed me"—I rushed and caught him, and the blood shot over my arm from his head; then I saw it was from his eye—I saw the prisoner strike him in the head; I only saw one blow—he struck him with both hands—I expect the parcel hit the prosecutor; it must have done so—there was no scuffle at all—the prosecutor did not strike the prisoner—I took the prosecutor across the road, and left him in charge of some one, and went after the prisoner, who went away as soon as he had done this at a good step, middling fast, and then he started at a kind of run—he went into the Duke of Cornwall public-house, and he asked me to have a drink of beer as I went in—I said I would pay for it—he stepped out of a little

door through the partition, and out of another door—I went after him again, and followed him till I met a constable, and gave him into custody—I saw nothing more of the scissors except when the constable took them away from him.

WILLIAM WILSON (Policeman W 70). On the evening of 3rd September Shoebridge spoke to me, and I went to the Fisherman's Arms in Windmill Lane, where I found the prisoner—I told him I should take him into custody on a charge of stabbing a man in the eye with a pair of scissors—he said "It served him right; it was his own fault; he fell on them"—I took him to the Oakfield Tavern first, where the injured man was, and then took him to the station—a conversation took place at the station; the prisoner was sober—he had half a pint in the Fisherman's Arms when I took him into custody—I searched him, and found this pair of scissors in his back coat tail pocket; they were in a parcel with the points out, and the ends of the parcel were open—there were some buttons in the parcel—I saw stains of blood on the scissors; they were closed when I took them out.

Cross-examined. They were rolled up in a parcel of buttons with the ends open.

ARATHUR MATHEY, M.D . I am house surgeon of the Croydon General Hospital—the prosecutor was brought there on 3rd September last—he was under my care in the hospital until 25th September, when I was at the police-court—when he was admitted he had two punctured wounds, one entering the orbit and one just above the eyebrow, and there was considerable effusion of blood behind the globe of the eye, which rendered it difficult to see what amount of injury was sustained by the eye at that time—it was a wound that must have been caused by some sharp instrument—I should say that the wound in the orbit was probably inflicted by the points of the scissors—the two wounds could have been caused by one blow of the scissors if they had been open—one wound was on the eyebrow and one just below it—he was discharged from the hospital but was ordered to come and see me periodically—one morning a fortnight ago I saw him and he then had symptoms of sympathetic ophthalmia in the other eye—I immediately ordered him in, in order to have the injured eye removed—the other eye will not be affected now, but probably if the first had remained it would have been—I should say it would not be affected now—a very slight blow would be sufficient to drive the points of the scissors into the orbit.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I went into the public-house and had something to eat and some ale also. Bateman began arguing and called me a liar. I sat on and had some tobacco and smoked. As I was going out Bateman and Shoebridge asked me to apologise; I said no, I was going out. Bateman and Shoebridge struck at me. I went out. Bateman came out and hit me three times; I warded it off. I had the scissors in my hand; he ran against it and that is how it happened."

JAMES BATEMAN (Re-examined). I did not strike at him three times.

By the Prisoner. I said at the police-court you used filthy language—I did not see that both your hands were up when I received the cut.

The prisoner in his defence repeated his statement and added that the scissors were in a brown paper parcel he was carrying, and that the injury must have been caused when he put up his hands to guard himself from the prosecutor's blows.

WILLIAM MERCER BOOTH . I am a boot and shoe manufacturer, of 107, Upper Grange Road, Bermondsey—the prisoner was my clerk and traveller, and bad been with me about 12 months—I had great confidence and trust in him; he knew all about my business—I had occasion lately to raise amounts from 10l. to 20l. on goods through Mr. Nicholls, auctioneer, of George Yard, Fenchurch Street, and I was accustomed to send the prisoner with the goods and obtain the money—on 20th October I sent him with the boy Bennett and with a barrow with 15 dozen morocco skins on it, to Mr. Nicholls to borrow money—I gave him instructions in my office, where we two only were, where to go and what to obtain—an arrangement had been made the day before with Nicholls that I was to have 1l. a dozen—nobody else was present—I had not mentioned to anybody else that I required 15l. on 15 dozen skins—I placed the skins on the barrow—Bennett had never been to Nicholls before; I did not tell him where to go but merely to accompany the prisoner—they left about 20 minutes or a quarter to 11—at half-past one the prisoner came back without the barrow, and asked me if the boy had come back with the barrow—I asked him what boy; I was surprised—he said, "The boy with the barrow"—I said I bad not seen the boy—he said, "The boy would not wait for me on the road when I told him," and that he had gone on to Mr. Nicholls, delivered the goods and got the cheque—I said, "Surely you never trusted that boy with the 15l. cheque?"—he said, "Well, I believe that he has it and no doubt it will be all right"—I said, "That is a funny way to speak"—he said, "The boy is sure to come back because he has got the barrow"—I said, "I don't know so much about that, for if he is so disposed he might run the barrow up any side turning and leave it"—after a little more conversation he asked me what had best be done, and I said he had better go and see if he could find the boy—I believe he did not go—he told me he had been to Mr. Nicholls and arrived about a quarter of an hour after the boy had left—about two o'clock the boy returned and made a statement to me, in consequence of which I went to Mr. Nicholls—next morning when the prisoner came to business I had an interview with him in Detective Harding's presence—I stated the matter to him and told him it was a very bad matter for him as he knew—he denied in toto that he had anything to do with this other man—I told him eventually as he had not confessed to it I had no alternative than to give him into custody.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I could not have given you instructions in the public-house the night before, because I had not made up my mind about them—I told you the day before to make arrangements about the skins, and when you came back I was in a public-house with a friend—you told me in the public-house you had made arrangements with Mr. Nicholls about them, but we were in the private bar, and only spoke in whispers—five or six people were there, some yards away—the bar is 8 by 10 feet, or something like that—I don't know that five or six people were round us—I do not believe they could have heard if they had listened; they must have had sharp ears to hear—Bennett has only been in

my employment a few weeks; I got no character with him—I have not troubled to find out his character since.

GEORGE NICHOLLS . I am an auctioneer, in the shoe and leather trade, at 2 and 3, George Yard, Fenchurch Street—on several occasions I have made advances to Mr. Booth through the prisoner—on Tuesday, 19th October, I saw the prisoner about making a further advance, and it was arranged that on the following day he should bring some morocco skins on which I was to advance 1l. per dozen—on 20th October Bennett called at my place with a young man, bringing 15 dozen morocco skins and this memorandum—I advanced 15l. on the skins, and gave to the young man this cheque for 15l., payable to Mr. Booth's order—it was then without endorsement—this was between 11 and 12—about a quarter of an hour afterwards the prisoner came to my place and said, "Have you received the goods?" or "Have the goods been delivered?"—I said, "I have, and I have advanced a cheque for 15l."—he said nothing more.

Cross-examined. I used to give crossed cheques, and Booth wrote and asked me to give open ones instead—this was an open cheque payable to order.

By theJURY. I don't think I told the prisoner that I had given the cheque to a young man; I merely said the goods had been delivered, and that I had made the advance—the cheque was paid by my bankers over the counter.

Re-examined. I did not 'show the prisoner this memorandum—the conversation about the cheques had been some time back.

HENRY BENNETT . I live at 4, Bronte Place, Trafalgar Road, Old Kent Road—on 20th October, Mr. Booth gave me some instructions to go with a barrow of morocco skins with the prisoner at a quarter to 11—I did not know where I was going with them—I had not taken skins to Mr. Nicholls before—I started with the prisoner and with the barrow; when I got a few yards away from the warehouse, the prisoner asked me if I knew Fenchurch Street—I said, "Yes;" he then followed me till I got to the New Kent Road—I looked round and could see nothing of him—I was there at least ten minutes, when a strange man came up to me, and asked if I worked for Mr. Booth—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I have got to go with you"—I said, "Where is the other man"—he said, "He has got to go somewhere else"—going by the Bull public-house, opposite Weston Street, I saw the prisoner with his face turned towards the public-house doors—he saw me and the strange man go past him, because his face was turned towards me as I went past; he turned round; he was one and a-half or two yards from me—as we were going down the Dover Road, the strange man asked me if I knew Mr. Booth—I said, "Yes"—he said, "He is my father, and young Tom is my brother"—the prisoner's name is Tom Baldwin—when we got to St. George's Church I stopped with the barrow, and the strange man went into the public-house at the corner of Swan Street; then the prisoner came up to me and waved his hand for me to go—I did not know at first what he meant; he then came up and told me to walk on slowly round by St. George's Church—I don't know where the strange man was at this time, but he came back again and followed me—I went round by St. George's Church, and then the strange man took me to Mr. Nicholls', Fenchurch Street; a porter there took the skins into the warehouse—the strange

man went in and wrote on a piece of paper similar to this—I stayed outside with the barrow—when the stranger came out he sent me off with the barrow to Mr. Jones, 202, Commercial Road, to get a half hundred weight of soles for boots—I could not find anyone of the name there; I then came back and told my master what had occurred.

Cross-examined. I knew your name was Tom; I did not know your other name—I thought you were Booth's son when the other man told me you were his younger brother; he did not say he was so—I did not say when Harding was at Mr. Booth's, or at any time, that you went straight on to the Borough with me—you could have gone round from the first place I saw you at to the second by Buckingham Square and the New Kent Road—I did not see you speak to this man; I did not see you have any connection with him at all—I had nothing on the barrow coming back—I came straight back to Mr. Booth's—the man did not come back with me—you did not walk as far as the Swan about 30 yards behind me.

GEORGE WILLIAM REYNOLDS . I live at Weston Road, Amhurst Park, Stamford Hill, and am a clerk at the London and Westminster Bank, Whitechapel Branch—on 20th October I cashed this cheque over the counter between two and three I should think; it was then endorsed "M. W. Booth"—I can't say who presented it.

WILLIAM MERCER BOOTH (Re-examined). This endorsement to this cheque is not mine—the writing on the memorandum is not mine nor the prisoner's.

By the Prisoner. Very possibly I called you "Tom "in the public-house—I was generally in the habit of doing so, and so possibly the people in the public-house would know your name was Tom.

By theJURY. The prisoner had to call on his way with these skins at Mr. Chipperfield's.

ByMR. TICKELL. On the Wednesday I determined for the first time to send the skins—I told him he was to call at Mr. Chipperfield's office in Trinity Street, Borough.

By the Prisoner. You had made arrangements with Nicholls to leave the skins on the Wednesday, provided that I approved of the price—I did not give you the name of other pawnbrokers.

HENRY NELSON PHILCOX . I live at 37, Trescot Road, Peckham Road, and am articled clerk to Mr. Chipperfield, of 7, Trinity Street, Southwark, about 10 minutes' walk from the New Kent Road—Mr. Chipperfield is Mr. Booth's solicitor—on 20th October, at 20 minutes past 11, the prisoner came to the office from Mr. Booth, and was there about a quarter of an hour—he paid something on account, and said he was going into the City for some money, and he would come back and pay us—about 20 minutes past 1 that day I saw him on a tram car near St. George's Church, about two minutes' walk from us—he said he had not got the money—I said u That will be rather awkward"—he said "No, it is all right; they have paid the boy; he would not wait for me, and went on without me"—I went with the prisoner to Mr. Booth.

Cross-examined. I am positive about the time, because I saw a lady at 25 minutes to 12; she was with me for half an hour—I left you in the lower office; you afterwards saw Mr. Chipperfield upstairs—you were waiting not five minutes downstairs—when the lady came I left you—I

came into Mr. Chipperfield's office upstairs in a very few minutes—you were to have paid 3l. and only paid 30s.—I did not hear you had lent Mr. Booth 4s. of that—I am not aware he owes you money—you told Mr. Booth the boy had not waited for you.

WILLIAM MERCER BOOTH (Re-examined by the Prisoner). I owe you 5l. or 6l.—you have lent me money at different times, from a few shillings up to 2l.—of the money you were to pay to Mr. Chipperfield 4s. was yours; it left me with not even a shilling—I had no character with you—I thought you were in employment when I had you—I did not know where you worked—you were living at the Turkish baths, I believe—I don't recollect you saying I could have a character from them.

By theCOURT. I gave the prisoner into custody.

WILLIAM HARDING (City Detective). About 11 o'clock on Friday morning I saw the prisoner, the prosecutor, and Bennett in the prosecutor's warehouse—I told the prisoner I was an officer of police, and I had to make some inquiries respecting a cheque for 15l. obtained from Mr. Nicholls, an auctioneer, Nos. 2 and 3, George Yard, Fenchurch Street, on the 20th—I told Bennett to say in the prisoner's presence what he had previously told me and his master. (The witness here repeated the boy's statement, which was substantially the same as that already given in his evidence.)I said "What time did you arrive at Mr. Nicholls' place?"—he said "I think it was something after 1 o'clock"—the prisoner said "I had to call at Mr. Chipperfield's, the solicitor, on my way; I was detained there half an hour"—I said "If that was so you had ample time to get to Mr. Nicholls's warehouse before the boy arrived with the goods"—he turned to his master and said "Well, Mr. Booth, give me in custody; I don't care to be kept in suspense any longer"—he also said "I have never received any wages from Mr. Booth for five or six weeks"—I took him to the Seething Lane Police-station, where I searched him, and found on him 2l. 16s.—he described himself as single, but I found his wife was living at 34, Red Lion Street, Holborn—it is about two miles from Upper Grange Road to George Yard I should think, and more than a mile from Upper Grange Road to Trinity Street, Borough—the weather was very dirty, and the streets greasy—it would take a boy a long time to get from the church to George Yard; he would go over London Bridge.

Cross-examined. It is about half a mile from the New Kent Road to St. George's Church, which is quite close to Mr. Chipperfield's office—I do not know your movements on the Thursday.

The prisoner in his defence urged that he could not have got in front of the boy for the boy to see him a second time; that if he had had the cheque he would probably have cashed it before 2 or 3 o'clock lest it should be stopped; and he stated that he was detained a long time at Mr. Chipper-field's, and that he thought the boy knew Mr. Nicholls's, and that he had brought away the cheque.

MR. TICKELL. said that he wished to withdraw the Count for false pretences, and to go to the Jury upon the conspiracy only.

GEORGEWRIGHT. I keep the Queen Anne public-house, Walworth—on 19th August the prisoner came in with Freeman and a customer—he had a cheque for 4l. 9s. in his hand, and said, "Do you mind obliging me by changing a cheque?—"I said, "I am not in the habit of changing cheques for strangers"—"God love me man," said the prisoner, "this cheque is as good as the Bank of England"—I said "It might be, I have a good deal of trouble sometimes with cheques"—he said, "It came from a diamond merchant, 140, Old Bond Street; I have had many of them from him; if you refer to the Post-office Directory you will see it "—I changed the cheque then—I looked at the Directory afterwards, not at the time; the name was there—he said he was a traveller, that he bad a warrant for four hogsheads of brandy that had landed in the Docks—he went away then—I passed the cheque through my bank; it came back marked "No account, closed"—it is "Pay W. Russell"—it was endorsed ""W. Russell' when he gave it to me, and he endorsed it "H. C Palmer" at my request—two or three days after the cheque was dishonoured I went and saw the prisoner, and told him—he said, "I do not know how it is, I am sure"—I said, "You must make it, good"—he said, "I have no money, I have not a farthing"—I said, "Cannot you make some means of getting some?"—he said "No"—I said, "How did you possess this cheque? who is this Russell?"—he said, 'I don't know Russell at all, all I know is I had it by the first post that morning;" the morning he presented it to me he meant—I said, "You bad better see Mr. Blanc, the drawer, and see if you cannot get the money"—he said he would—I said, "You had better come down and see me and pay me; if you cannot get the money from him, come to me, and I will go down with you to Messrs. Blanc and see what we can do between us'—he never came near me again—I went and saw him again; I got nothing from him—I gave information to the police, and he was arrested—I parted with my money for the cheque, solely on his representation that Mr. Blanc had money at the bank.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You were a stranger, I knew the other two men; one of them did not say "A few days ago you obliged me by changing a cheque, can you do so now for my friend?'—one of them did not introduce you to me—Freeman asked me, after I said I did not change cheques for Grangers, if I found his little cheque all right? and I said that was all right, because I knew the drawer of it—I had a drink with you, you asked me—we had some conversational walked, through Camber well with you and Freeman, and we went into the Tiger—I saw in the Directory what Blanc's business was—I did not ask you for security; I said "If you have anything that is worth anything you had better leave it with me, I will hold it till you pay me"—you said "I have got nothing in my possession I can leave that is worth 4l. 9s"—when I came to see you I said all I wanted was my money, and If you can show me you lose this money, I will lose, half of it with you, if you prosecute Blanc, and I will take it from you, 5s. a week"—you wore to meet me on Monday or Tuesday to take me to see Blanc, you said you could never find him—you never appeared, and I went to the police—the second time you were before the Magistrate I knew Blanc was in custody—I could not pay when he was apprehended.

National Provincial Bank of England—this cheque is signed by Blanc and Co.; they had no account at our bank when this was drawn—their account was closed last December, and an intimation sent them to that effect—Blanc resided at 40, Old Bond Street, and was a diamond merchant—I last saw him in the dock at the Middlesex Sessions—he got five years' penal servitude about a month ago for obtaining money by false pretences by a cheque on our bank—he had kept his cheque book.

ELLEN SAINGER . I live at 12, De Crespigny Terrace, Camberwell, and am a widow—the prisoner came to lodge with me on 28th February, and was there until he was arrested—on 17th August a friend of his named Blanc came to stay with him, and shared his bedroom; he came I thought for one or two days, but stayed nearly ten—I saw him in the dock at Middlesex Sessions, he was sentenced to fire years' penal servitude about a month ago—his address was there given as 40, Bond Street—he went to an hotel after he left me.

Cross-examined. I was away for a few weeks after Blanc left—when I returned you told me he had gone, and said it was because he had behaved in a very dishonourable way to you in some matter of business—on the following Wednesday you told me some one had called from Jay's, in Oxford Street, with reference to a 20l. cheque, and that my address was given on it, and that Blanc had issued it—I was told that cheque was cashed on the 28th, I think—I gave evidence of this against Blanc—your conduct was honourable when you resided with me.

CHARLES VINEY (Detective Sergeant G). I arrested the prisoner on 3rd September, and told him I was a police officer, and I should take him into custody on a warrant for obtaining 4l. 9s. from Wright by false pretences on 19th August—he said "I am sorry for that; it is a bad job; it is my own fault, I ought to have gone and seen Mr. Wright as I promised"—I said "You told Mr. Wright you received that cheque by post from 40, Old Bond Street"—he said "Yes, I did"—I said "Blanc has been away from there 12 months"—he made no reply—I said "You told Mr. Wright that you saw Blanc on Saturday last"—he said "I did see him, but I don't know where he lives, or where to find him"—the prisoner asked me if I could let the warrant stand over for a few days—I told him I could not—he said "Well, then, I am sold"—I have made inquiries at 40, Bond Street.

Cross-examined. I was with the prosecutor and another officer—I alone spoke to you.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. u When I negotiated that cheque I believed it to be genuine."

The prisoner in his defence stated that Blanc owed him money, and had promised to send him some, and that he believed this cheque was genuine.

SAMUEL GEORGE CHERUBIN . I live at the Cottage, 600, Commercial Road East, and am a clerk—on 30th September, about 11.30, I was going home, and went into a public-house in the High Street, Borough, and on leaving I counted my money; I had 11s. exactly, which was in my right-hand trousers pocket—I turned into a narrow turning, and while I was unbuttoning my trousers I was attacked by three men from behind; they must have followed me—the prisoner was one of them; he threw his left, arm round me, and took hold of me by the throat, and another took hold, of my left arm, and the third took hold of my right hand with his left hand and placed his right hand into my pocket, and I felt him take my money—I never released the prisoner—I called out; generally to them, particularly the one taking my money, and said "You scoundrel"—the, two men ran away, and a policeman came to my assistance immediately, while I was still on the ground—the three of them threw me to the, ground; it was quite a melee—the prisoner said "Let go"—I was not aware there was a constable, but as soon as I saw it was I let him go, and the constable, assisted by another one, took him to the station, and L then found my money was gone—I was very much hurt, and I felt the effects on my throat for three weeks—I was in bed next day when the constable called; I have recovered now—I had not seen the prisoner before to my knowledge—I had had a glass, but I knew perfectly what I was about—I walked to the station with the constable.

Cross-examined. I put out my hands and seized the first person I could lay hold of, particularly the one that held me—I live from a mile and a half to two miles from this public-house—I had left home in the afternoon, and had been to a wharf where I had been formerly engaged—I had no drink there—I then went to another wharf on this side of the water, and I had a drink of mild and bitter, there with the chief clerk—after that I went over the water; I was in company with other friends—I might have had five or six drinks during the evening, but I should say I was a sober man that evening—I had no whisky; I never touch spirits—if the constable says I was the worse for drink I should say he was mistaken; I was excited—I was at the station no longer than it would require to take the charge; not half an hour—the station was about a quarter of a mile from where this took place—I did not walk beside the constable, I walked behind—he saw me at the station, and I had a conversation with him there.

Re-examined. I was naturally excited and dazed at the injuries I had received.

JOHN WATERMAN (Policeman M 329). I was on duty in the High Street, Borough, about 12 o'clock on the night of 30th September last, and from information I received I went to St. Margaret's Court, a turning out of the High Street, and saw the prosecutor struggling with three men, and I saw him fall; he was about 12 yards up the court—there are some houses at the other end—I went up to him, and the two men saw me coming and started off down the way they came—the prisoner fell down on the top of the prosecutor; I went and pulled him off—the prosecutor had hold of him here, very tight, and when he saw I was a constable he got up and said, "They have robbed me,"

and put his hand in his pocket and said, "They have taken all my money"—the prisoner said they did not do it; he said, 'I am innocent of it; this man struck me in the face, and I am fighting in self-defence"—I Searched the prisoner and found 3d. in coppers in his trouser pocket—I then took him to the station—the prosecutor had been drinking, but he knew well what he was about—the prisoner was quite Sober; in answer to the charge at the station he said he was fighting in self-defence.

Cross-examined. I said at the police-court, "Prosecutor was rather the worse for drink; "he Was the Worse for drink, but knew what he was about—it was dark there, but I could see them—the public-house looks into this road, and a door leads out into it, and the prosecutor was lour or five yards below the door—I was standing across the other side of the road, and when I got up to them I saw the prisoner had hold of the prosecutor on the ground—some passing person gate me the information.

GUILTY .** The prisoner had been 17 times convicted of drunkenness and assault.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18861025-1114

1114. WILLIAM ROBERTS (23) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Martin Willis, and stealing 21 packets of tobacco and 21 pieces of paper, his property.

MR. ST. AUBYNProsecuted.

MARTIN WILLIS . I keep the Queen's Head public-house, Vauxhall Walk—on the morning of 5th October, about 1.45, I went to bed and left everything secure, and was awoke by the dog barking about 3 o'clock; I thought it was barking at nothing and went to sleep again—I got up next morning about 7.30, and found the drawer in the bar had been opened and the tobacco gone; it was safe in the drawer the night before; it was similar to this; I see here 21 packets; the drawer was full—I found that a knife had been put between the two sashes of the landing window that looks into the yard, and the hasp had been newly sawed by the knife—there was nothing in the yard, but he would have the assistance of some steps to get to the window—the yard communicates with the street; there is a wall five feet high, but a man could get over it easily—I could not say whether the steps had been used; they always stand in the back yard; they would reach the landing window—the window was safe when I went to bed—I thought I heard a noise on the stairs near the landing window before the dog barked; it ceased barking and I thought it was all right.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I can swear that tobacco is mine, firstly by the name "Fleming; Virginia "on the packet, and secondly I am the the wall by only one in that district they serve—I don't think you could get over yourself; you could easily get back with the assistance of the steps.

WILLIAM WARREN (Policeman L 112). On the morning of 5th October, about 6.30 a.m., 1 was on duty in the New Cut, and saw the prisoner stop a man who appeared to be going to work and hold his hands up as if offering him something, I could not see what it was—I followed him some distance and saw him stop two men; I followed him about 200 yards and overtook him, and asked him what he was offering for sale; he said "I only want to bell this, policeman," putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out a packet of tobacco—I at once put my hand in his right-hand pocket, and found a number of packets—I turned him round and put my

hand in his other pocket, and found a quantity there—it wais a kind of cutaway coat—I said "Where did you get it from?" he said "I bought it last night from a young man Blackfriars Road"—I said "How much did you give for it?" he said "I gave him 1s. for the whole"—I didn't like the answer and took him to the station—I asked him if he knew the man or whether he would know him again—he said "No, I never saw him before"—I searched him at the station and found on him 21 half-ounces of tobacco, 1s. in silver, and some bronze, a pocket-knife, and some other small articles, a reel of cotton, and some matches, you might call them silent matches—this knife has marks on it, and has evidently been used for forcing back something—I charged him with the unlawful possession then, and went to different police-station, but nothing was reported to the police—I then went to Fleming's, 60, Broadway, London Fields, and got the names and addresses supplied by that firm, and so got from the list the house where this took place—I examined the premises, and found a mark between the window frames of the landing window, such as might have been made by forcing the catch with a knife—I tried to force the catch back with this knife, and was successful; the bottom part of the window lifted up—I saw some steps in the yard; I got on them and could get in by their means—any one could also get over the wall by the aid of them; no one could get over by himself—I could get over—it is a little over 5 feet—when I told the prisoner I should charge him with burglary he said "What, me to be charged with burglary?"—I said "Yes"—he said "My God, it is all up! it is the other man that ought to be charged, not me"—it is about half a mile from the Queen's Head, where I stopped him.

Cross-examined. I searched the yard to try and find the point of this knife, but there had been a lot of rain and it was very dirty—it had recently been broken when I found it on you—the prosecutor was the only one in Lambeth that that firm supplied—I put a name on the tobacco.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I bought this tobacco and gave 1s. for the lot. I asked him if it was stolen, and he said it was got on the cross; that means it was stolen. I thought I would take my chance. That was about four in the morning."

The prisoner in his defence stated that he pleaded guilty to the unlawful possession but not to the burglary.

The Court commended the conduct of the officer, in which the Jury concurred.

Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.

Reference Number: t18861025-1115

1115. WILLIAM BROWN and ALBERT GREENAWAY , Stealing a mare, cart, and harness, the property of William Small.

MESSRS. POLANDandMATHEWSProsecuted; MR. A. METCALFEDefended.

WILLIAM SMALL . I am a horse dealer, of 55, Richard Street, Liverpool Road, Islington—on 9th August I left my horse and cart outside the Elephant and Castle about 4 30 in charge of two men—I came out in halt an hour and they were gone—I gave information at the Islington Police-station—about six weeks afterwards I law the cart and harness in the possession of Bent, a butcher, at Northampton—I gave Bent in custody, but he was discharged.

Cross-examined. I had not seen either of the prisoners before this charge.

MARY ANN DAGY . I keep the Magpie Inn, Northampton—on 14th August the prisoners, a third man, and Brown's wife, came into the yard with a living van, a cart, harness, and a chestnut horse—they staved a week and went on the 21st—Brown lived with his wife in the ran and Greenaway lodged at my house—on the 28th they came again with a third man, and remained half an hour—the third man asked for some note paper; I did not see what they did with it.

Cross-examined. I am quite sure the third man came with them on 14th August—I saw on the Sunday the horse they brought, it had white legs and face; they tell me it was the horse that was stolen—I had seen the third man some four years ago when he came with Greenaway's father and mother into my yard.

ARTHUR BENT . I am a butcher at Harpole, near Northampton—on 18th August I saw the prisoners and a third man—they asked me whether I wanted to sell the cob I had in the market—I said, "I don't mind"—they asked me whether I would make an exchange for the cart—I said I did not mind, and I exchanged my cob for the cart and 7l. 10s.—next day I exchanged my old cart for this cart and set of harness and gave 31s.—all three men were present on both the 18th and 19th August—I had never seen the third man before, I don't know who he was; I have seen him in the market since—on 4th September Small saw these things in my possession—I saw a horse at the Magpie; I don't know what became of it.

Cross-examined. The third man paid me the 7l. 10s.—I knew the two prisoners were with a travelling van—I saw them about the town several days after 19th August—I saw the third man at the Magpie; he was not going about with the van.

SAMUEL PEARSE . I am groom to Henry Ward, Hyde House Farm; Kingsbury, Middlesex—his bay mare was in a field close to his residence at eight o'clock on 30th August—next morning it was gone—I communicated with the police, and on 7th September I went to Northampton, where I saw it in the possession of the police and identified it.

JOSEPH SPENCER CAMPION . I am an auctioneer, of 5, Dorngate, Northampton—on 4th September, Greenaway brought me this letter—(Requesting the witness to sell a bay mare without reserve—signed, "G. Dennis, Towcester") with a bay mare, which was put in an auction shed—I put her up to sell in consequence of the instructions in this letter; there was no bid for her, and she was taken back to the auction shed, and, here left till she was fetched away, and I saw no more of her.

Cross-examined. I never heard of a Dennis of Towcester—I have been at Northampton all my life—I know Towcester well, and deal much with Towcester people.

ALFRED GREEN (Detective Officer, Northampton). On Saturday, 4th September, about 6.30, I saw the two prisoners at Wootton, nearly two miles from Northampton—I told them they would be charged on suspicion of stealing a horse, cart, and harness, from the Old Kent Road, on or about 9th August—Bent had accompanied us, and he said, "These are two of the men; that is my cart and harness, they had it in their possession"—Greenaway said he bought that in the market of a man, he did not know who—Brown said he did not know who the man was—they had a van and cart, too, and a bay mare which was drawing the van—

Brown said he bought the mare that day in the market to draw the van, because the pony was not strong enough—Greenaway said, "We were afraid we should get into trouble for overloading the pony, so sold the pony, and bought the horse"—I took them in custody—on September 7th Pearse came down to Northampton and identified the mare that had been in the van a Mr. Ward's property, and took it back to London—Small's cart and harness I found at the Magpie in the landlord's possession, and Bent's cart and harness were in the prisoner's possession—Towcester is eight miles from our place; I don't know much about it.

Cross-examined. I have not made inquiries at Towcester as to whether there was a person names Denis there—the case was handed over to the Metropolitan Police.

WILLIAM CROSTON (Detective Sergeant M). On 7th September I went to Northampton, and received the prisoners into custody; I charged them with stealing a horse and cart, the property of Small, from outside the Elephant and the Castle—Greenaway said, "We did not steal the horse and car; nobody saw us take it, and I don't know what you can do with us"—I said, "It was traced to your possession, at all events at the Magpie Inn; you are two of the three men who sold it to a butcher there"—Green-away was going to speak; Brown stopped him and said, "You shut up, let me speak; I own we were present at the time; we had our say in the matter, and he," pointing to Greenaway, "had 1s. of the money, and we had been; we had nothing to do with the stealing, the other man stole it, not us"—I said, "Can you tell us who the third man is?"—he said "No"—I said there was a second charge against them with respect to the mare from a field at Hendon on the night of 30th August—Brown said, "We did not steal the mare, we borrowed it"—I asked him who from he said, "I don't know who from, I don't know the man"—I said, "Does the man know you then?"—he said "No"—I said, "When or where were you to have returned it to him?'—he said, "I don't know—Inspector Blatch was there and said, "You told me you bought it"—Brown said, "That is nothing;" he laughed and made light of it; "We borrowed it of the man that stole it, and that is the bloke you have not got."

Cross-examined. I took a note at the time of their answers to me—I have no doubt there is a third man; every inquiry has been made, but we cannot find him.

Re-examined. We have made inquiries at Towcester for a man named Dennis, but no such person is knows there.

The prisoners received good characters.

NOT GUILTY

Reference Number: t18861025-1116

1116. WILLIAM BROWN and ALBERT GREENAWAY were again indicted for stealing a mare, the property of Henry Ward.

"I beg your pardon"—we started to come home by tram about a quarter to 11—the prisoner sat on the tram behind me with his back to me—I felt something come on my head; I looked round and saw him with an open knife in his hand and found blood coming from my head—I tried to get the knife from him; it came across this linger, which will be of no more use to me—a witness kept hold of me and said, "Keep quiet"—the prisoner tried to get at my throat through my handkerchief, and then he leaned over the witness's arm and stabbed me in the breast—I called out, "I am stabbed"—a policeman came up and I was taken to a doctor—we had had a little drop, but knew what we were doing—there had been no quarrel between us.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not hit you because you would not stop singing.

CHARLES RIVENHALL (Policeman W 140). At 20 minutes to 12 on the night of 2nd October I was in the Clapham Road, and saw a tram coming along from Clapham Common with a number of men singing on the top—when the tram was about to stop I heard some one on the top halloa out "I am stabbed!"—I ran up to the top of the tram, and saw the prisoner being held down and the prosecutor bleeding from his head, hand, and breast—I apprehended the prisoner, and handed him over to another constable—he had been drinking, but knew what he was doing—he said "I don't care for my head; I would as soon have it off as on"—Harris gave me this knife covered with blood.

WIILLIAM HARRIS (Policeman W R 19). I was with Rivenhall on 2nd October—I picked up this knife from the ground all over fresh blood on the left side of a tramcar, which was the side on which the prisoner was sitting.

CHALES DOWNING . I am a surgeon of Clapham—at 20 minutes to 12 on 2nd October the prosecutor was brought to me—he was bleeding very profusely from the left side of his head, and had an incised and lacerated wound on the middle finger of his left hand, which had cut away the tendons of the finger, and an artery was bleeding very freely; I secured this—evidently he had lost a considerable quantity of blood—on his index finger was a clean incised wound—on the right side of his chest, a little way from the breast bone, between his fourth and fifth ribs, there was a wound about three-quarters of an inch deep, obliquely, not penetrating the chest cavity—he had another incised cut behind his right ear, and a scratch on the ear itself—the wound on the finger, if not attended to, might have bled to a dangerous extent—the wounds might have been caused by this knife—the wounds on the head and chest fitted exactly with the point of it—he will probably lose the use of his finger; it will be perfectly stiff.

BENJAMINTRIM. I live at Gray's Place, Lambeth—on the night of 2nd October I was on a tramcar coming from Clapham, and was sitting near the prosecutor and the prisoner on the same side—just before we came to Dorset Street they were singing, and the prosecutor jumped up and laid he was stabbed in the head—I got up and asked him to sit down till the car stopped, and then we would see what it was—I looked round; the prisoner was facing him—I put my hands on the prosecutor's shoulder, and said "Sit down"—he said "Am 1 to sit down and be stabbed in this manner?"—at the same time the prisoner leant over my arm and stabbed him in the breast—I did not see anything in his hand

then, but when I turned round his brother and a witness had hold of him, and I saw a knife in his right hand—the prisoner had been drinking—the prosecutor was sober.

JOHN EMERY . I live at 14, Vauxhall Street—on 2nd October I was on this tramcar, sitting next to the prisoner—I heard the prosecutor say he was stabbed—I turned round and assisted his brother in preventing the prisoner from doing anything more—the prisoner was stabbing him—I held the prisoner back—I had not noticed any quarrel between them.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "He started it himself. We were singing, and because I would not leave off he started hitting me, and that is how the bother started."

The prisoner stated in his defence that if he had used the knife he must have done so under the influence of fit, to which he was subject.

THOMAS LEONARD . I am an engine driver in the employ of the London, Chatham and Dover Rail way—on Sunday, 19th September, I was in the coal shed at the locomotive depot, between Queen's Road and Stewart's Lane, with Hawkshaw, a Dover driver, and Cook, who was on my engine—we were about 50 or 60 yards from my turntable—I saw the prisoners coming together from the direction of Queen's Road, Battersea; they came across to the turntable which we turn the engines on, they took the fastenings out at both ends of the table—they are the only things that hold it from moving when we go on and off with our engines, and with the fastenings off most probably the engine would run off the line and go into the hole, which is from 5 ft. 6 in to 6 ft. deep—the prisoners went on in the direction of Stewart's Lane—I and the Dover driver followed, telling two firemen we were going, and they also followed—I got up to the prisoners first—I asked Chapman if they knew the mischief they had been up to; he drew a spanner from under his coat, (he had taken it from the Company's premises), and swung it round and hit me on the ribs as hard as he could, I think—Davis struck me on the head with this stone bottle in a basket—I was incapacitated for some time.

CHARLES COOK . I am a fireman in the employ of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway Company—I was with Leonard at the locomotive depot, Stewart's Lane, and saw the two prisoners together—Chapman, who is nicknamed Sambo, came and pulled out the first catch, and Davis walked across the table and pulled the other catch out—I was on the engine at the time—they passed about 15 yards from my engine, and as they did so Sambo picked up this spanner from a heap of broken chains and fish plates and walked away with it—Leonard came to me, and I followed with him—Leonard asked Chapman what he thought he was doing there—he turned and abused him, and hit him with the spanner across the ribs—Leonard hit him down, but he flourished the spanner about and ran away—Davis hit Leonard with a stone bottle and ran away—I and another witness followed him down Stewart's Lane until

we came to a gang of men—they said "Don't come any farther, old fellow, or you will get murdered."

JOHN GRAVES . I am a fireman in the employ of the London, Chatham and Dover Railway Company—on Sunday, 19th September, I was in this locomotive depot—I saw the two prisoners come from Queen's Road and cross the turntable, where they pulled the catches out—they then went over the bridge into the road, and we went after them to stop them—Leonard was going to capture Chapman, but he struck him with the spanner, and afterwards Davis struck him with a bottle—they got away.

MARY JANE ALLEN . I am the wife of Nicholas Allen—we live at the London Steam Saw Mills, Stewart's Lane—on Sunday afternoon, 9th September, I was sitting outside my door with a baby in my arms—I saw the two prisoners come round the corner; Chapman had a spanner in his hand—he put it on a post, and said if he gave one of them a knock on the head with that it would soon settle them—soon after I saw Leonard come over the fence—he said "It is well you are gone"—they returned with foul language, and he went to Davis and asked who did it—he turned to arrest Chapman, and he hit him with the spanner in the ribs, but he meant it for his head, and when his mate went to arrest him he swung the spanner that no one should arrest him—I called for my husband, but he did not hear me—Leonard went to him, and he up with the bottle and hit him on the head, and when he found he had knocked him down and stunned him, he up with the bottle and hit him on the head, and then ran away.

FREDERICK REED . I live at 22, Stockdale Road, Battersea and am an errand boy—on this Sunday I was in the Stewart's Lane depot—I saw Sambo hit Leonard with the spanner across the ribs, and then Leonard struck him; then they went to arrest Davis, and Davis up with the bottle and knocked him down.

CHARLES EVERTT (Police Sergeant W 42). I arrested Davis—I read the warrant to him; he said that he was there at the time, but he did not do anything, it was Sambo and Carter—I said "Where is the spanner?"—he said "Sambo had it, and I am not going to suffer for others."

CONELIUS MONAHAN (Policeman W 275). I arrested Chapman—I read the warrant to him; he said "I know nothing at all about it."

Davis in his defence stated that he saw Amos shift the catches, and that he only hit Leonard with the bottle after Leonard had hit him. Chapman stated that Amos had moved the catches, and that he hit Leonard with a piece of wood, not with a spanner.

GUILTY .

CHAPMAN thenPLEADED GUILTYto a conviction of felony in March, 1883. They were further indicted for assaulting Thomas Leonard, to which they

1119. ALEXANDER SMITH (29), Stealing a gelding, the goods of William Conolly.

MR. DYSON WILLIAMS Prosecuted.

WILLIAM CONOLLY . I live at 100, Putney Bridge Road—on 29th September, at 6.15 a.m., I missed my pony, which I had last seen at 6.30 the evening before locked up in the stable, the key of which was in my pocket—next morning the lock of the door was broken open.

ALFRED MAYOR . I am in Mr. Conolly's service—on 28th September I was cleaning the stable out, and noticed two men looking over the gate; the prisoner was one of them—the pony was in the yard at the time—I heard the prisoner say, "It is a nice quiet pony"—next morning I identified the prisoner at Battersea Police-station; he had a blue jacket and trousers—I saw the pony in the greenyard.

PERCY WOOD (Policeman V 394). On 29th September, at 12.15, I was in the York Road and saw the prisoner leading a pony—I stopped and asked him where he was going—he said he was going to Vauxhall to take the pony to his master, Mr. White—having no halter or bridle on it aroused my suspicions, and I took him to the station—I searched and found in his pocket this chisel and pocket book—I examined, the stable door and found on it marks corresponding to this chisel—the prosecutor identified his pony at the police-court.

The prisoner in his defence stated that he was taking the pony to Vauxhall for a man who employed him.

1121. WILLIAM BROWN (30) PLEADED GUILTY to burglary in the dwelling-house of Christopher Robinson, and stealing a dock.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. And

Reference Number: t18861025-1122

1122. JAMES ROGERSON (34) to stealing and receiving two railway warrants, the property of the Queen, he being employed in the public service; also to three indictments for forging warrants for the payment of money.— [Pleaded guilty. See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Hard Labour.